Reviving the Winds
by Ally612
Summary: Rhett's gone. Bonnie's dead. Melanie's dead. Scarlett is once again left alone to fix the shards of her broken life. Bonding with her remaining children and learning to love, Scarlett becomes the woman she's always wanted to be. RR please.
1. A Lady Lost

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Gone With the Wind. Wish I did, though… **

**A/N: This is set after Rhett leaves, but before Melly's funeral. No plot changes have been made and this follows the book, not the film, so Ella and Wade do exist. **

**Please read and review! **

---

It would have been like any ordinary day in the large house on Peachtree, an ostentatious home that belonged to Rhett Butler, Scarlett O'Hara Butler, Wade Hamilton, Ella Kennedy, and various other darkies who worked for the family, if it weren't for the noticeable absence of the children and their stepfather, Rhett. It would have been like any ordinary day, except, it was not.

Scarlett had woken up with her tears dried upon her face, her black mourning outfit tight and uncomfortable, and her hair still pinned up, remembering the events of the nights before. Her body shook with sobs as she buried her face in the pillows of her large and empty bed in her large and empty room in her large and empty house, never called a home.

Not since—no, she wouldn't think about Bonnie today. Not today, not when Melly—good, sweet, innocent, Melly—who had died trying to bring another baby in the world—had only passed days before. Scarlett recalled with horror little Beau, his angelic blonde curls tossing as he wailed for his mother.

The poor child didn't even know she had died yet, Scarlett knew. Ashley certainly had not told him, Aunt Pitty would faint at the notion, and no one else would have the heart, leaving the task once again, to Scarlett. It seemed in times of burden she would be the one everyone relied on.

After she had left Melly's house—how _it hurt to even think about her_ - to hear her name, even to think her name brought such a sharp pain that her breath whittled past her teeth in a high-pitched keen.

She had wired Will in Tara to send Mammy and the children to her again; they needed to be there for their Aunt Melly's funeral and to lend their support to their cousin Beau. The children would be arriving that afternoon, holding no idea of the tragedy that had lay in store for them. They had loved Melanie as much as they loved their mother, and perhaps more. Melanie had always been there for them, even when Scarlett could not, or when she was going through a hard time. Somehow, Scarlett could not summon the rage she usually felt at the thought of her children preferring another woman to be their mother. It seemed wrong, ever so wrong. It would not do to be angry with Melly, never again. _And really, Scarlett. You aren't a good mother, Melly was, why would they want to deal with your rejection when they could have **her**__love? _So Scarlett merely swallowed the lump in her throat, and moved along. _Don't think about that today. _

Dressing once more in a somber black, this time actually looking and feeling the part, she gazed mournfully in the mirror. Her black curls were pulled back severely, adding years to her appearance. Her green eyes were bloodshot and underlined with dark smudges, and her skin held a sickly, unpleasant pallor. She avoided her reflection, looking no longer than necessary. _For all your present ugliness, you are alive. Melly isn't. I can't think of her, pale and cold and dead. _

It was almost time to leave for the station, the children needed to be picked up soon. She had missed them much more then she ever would have thought. Despite her detached way of raising them, no one could have denied the struggles and toils she faced to feed and clothe them, leaving the coddling to others. She loved her children enough to sacrifice their happiness for their health, but no one understood that. No one except Melly, of course. Even Rhett, for all his so-called understanding of her didn't understand. He'd never been in need. _He didn't see Wade, dirty, hungry, crying for his mother after we were deserted on the road to Tara. He didn't see Wade when the fire threatened to kill us all, white and cold, like he was dead. He didn't see baby Ella screaming for a mother that couldn't even muster the energy to get out of bed. _

She had never been ready for motherhood when it had struck her, inopportune pregnancies were her lot in life, it seemed. At seventeen she was too young and immature to be a mother, and in her early days as a mother she had no idea of how to raise a child whom was fathered by a man she had married to spite another.

She remembered nine months of new changes, painful, awkward changes that left her sick all day and tired all night. She remembered things: a couple hours of searing, ripping, tearing pain, Doctor Fontaine's mutterings that her hips were too narrow, and a silver instrument that she had cried out upon its visage, and had to be blindfolded and half drugged to consent to. Then, the relief to have the baby out; seeing a squalling, red-faced, bloody, and gooey child that had greedily sucked all that she had to give and then cried for hours anyway.

She remembered being proud of herself for birthing a boy, a healthy son, and for a moment, she recalled wishing Charles had been there, pacing outside the door, ready to reward her with a kiss, earbobs, a necklace, a reprieve, anything. But she looked down on her child and did not know what to do. She felt a sense of responsibility to be sure, but she did not feel any sort of maternal instinct, granting her instant expertise.

She had felt the same with Ella. The baby was unwanted. Everything was the same, the unpleasant sickness, the pain, the changes, her inability to carry out the simplest tasks, and then, the baby. Ella had been an ugly baby. That was certain, and Scarlett had not been proud of her homely daughter in the least. At least with Wade, she knew he would be handsome.

And then, there had been Bonnie, another difficult pregnancy, struggling to live normally, and then the baby she had lost. Afterwards she had lost all worth in her husband's eyes. She still did not understand the way Rhett had thrown her aside after being so attentive during her pregnancies, even when they were not his children. She remembered his insistence on her safety when she carried Ella. He had thrown all his attention on Bonnie; in fact, he had not even congratulated her after the birth. Even women on the street that hated her gave her more consolation than that!

But now was not the time to think of such things. Today, now, the present belonged to Melanie, not her two dead children. She regretted the lost time she had not spent with her children, and wondered not for the first time what it would have been like if she had been a better mother. Instead she had turned her children over to Melly, but now that Melly wasn't with her, she needed to take responsibility.

It had happened in Marietta. Scarlett had become much closer to her children. It was just to quell her ache for Bonnie and the lost baby, not a genuine affection, but it had sustained her. For days she had showered them in false affection just to make her hurting stop, before she started to acknowledge how much they loved and genuinely adored her. It hadn't been easy though, even though they were starving for her affection, they had been wary.

She remembered Wade's suspicions when she started to show him affection, their daily trips to the book store to buy him supplies and books. He wanted to go to Harvard and become a lawyer, he had said once. Scarlett had not agreed then, but hearing his bright mind discuss lessons she did not remember from years past, she quickly retracted her former disapproval.

She remembered how Ella would cling to her pathetically, a look in her eyes that called out to what little mothering skills she actually possessed. All the girl wanted was love, she realized shamefully. Ella never asked for anything but to be held and kissed goodnight. In turn, Scarlett had tried to make up for six years of apathetic mothering by showering her daughter in love, toys, and stories.

Guilt and shame threatened to swallow her when she thought of how her children had suffered under her hand. She would not think of that now, though. She could only make it better from here on. And she would, she vowed, she would do it in honor of Melly. _They won't be in want of a mother anymore, Melly, I swear to you. _

---

Approaching the train station, she noticed its deserted and empty state. There was a couple, young and obviously newlyweds holding hands and smiling at each other, oblivious to the surroundings. There was an elderly man who was traveling alone and a small family of squalling children, but it was nothing compared to the usual cacophony of noise and activity.

Steam, the noisy sound of tracks upon steel wheels, the high pitched whistle and grating noise of a halt made Scarlett wince in agony, her head pounding from the amount of brandy she had consumed the night before.

Her children spilled off the train, moments later, eager to stretch their legs. When they looked ahead and saw her, they shrieked in delight. They had not expected her to come for them personally; even Uncle Rhett did not do such things! Ella's rapturous little voice called out to her in giddiness.

"Mother!"

As Scarlett looked ahead to see her running children, enthusiastic to see their mother, she studied them for a moment.

Wade, just barely ten years old, was quite tall for his age. His face was shaped well, almost aristocratic. He held his mother's fair skin and thinner build. His nose was solely his father's, but his cheekbones looked like Melanie's. His brown hair was Ellen O'Hara's. His plain eyes were shaped as Scarlett's were, and narrowed or widened in her very likeness.

Ella, who had celebrated her sixth birthday only three weeks before, had not yet outgrown her rambunctious attitudes that came with being five years old. Her hair was Frank's ginger hue. Her frame was pale and petite, which suited her very well. Her eyes, though Frank's in shape, were an astounding shade of green, more pure then Scarlett's own. Her eyes would attract more suitors then she would know what to do with, Scarlett mused proudly. Ella was not gorgeous, not like Bonnie had been. But she was striking and sweet in her own ways. She had outgrown the ugliness of her younger years, to be sure.

She knelt down and opened her arms to her children, enfolding them into a tight embrace. Several members of the Old Guard walking by, on their way to Church, the market, the bank, to call on each other, stopped to watch Scarlett with her remaining children.

It was a very public place after all, they could not have possibly been accused of snooping, no indeed, and it was public property! Falling over each other, they tried to look as if they were simply going about their business.

"Is Scarlett O'Hara really _kissing_ her children?" They asked each other.

"For show," they hurried to assure each other, "see," they pointed, "she's seen us now. It's only for show!"

Yes, Scarlett had seen them. And her glare was so unnerving they all looked away and hurried along. Her eyes were unnatural in their fury, they practically glowed!

"Wade, Ella," she addressed them separately, giving each a kiss on the forehead, "Mother has something she needs to tell you and you're going to be mighty sad."

Scarlett took a shuddering breath and told them that their Aunt Melly was in heaven.

Ella had nearly bowled Scarlett over, as she threw herself into her mother's arms. Scarlett's wan frame swooned precariously, before she righted herself, meeting her son's teary eyes. Shifting Ella, she opened another arm to Wade. He sought comfort in her, and one of her hands rubbed his shaking shoulders, murmuring indistinct comforts.

Mammy silently approached and did not even seem to notice the hot tear that cascaded down her cheek at the unspoken news; she had known that Melanie was dying since the telegram arrived. Perhaps before, Mammy knew things Scarlett had never even heard whispers of, weeks before anyone else found out.

---

Scarlett didn't know how much time had passed until her carriage pulled up in front of the Hamilton House where Aunt Pitty lived with India, and where Ashley and Beau were staying at the moment.

"Mammy, you go on into the kitchen and see if you can do anything for Pitty, would you?"

At Mammy's assent, Scarlett and her children entered the parlor.

Ella was on her hip, and she was holding Wade's hand with her left hand, their fingers were interlaced. They exchanged a sorrowful look, and she squeezed his hand, hoping to provide reassurance.

Ashley was there. He looked gray. Of course, Ashley had always looked rather gray, ever since the war that was. His temples were streaked liberally with ivory, gray somehow being beneath his golden locks. His eyes, dove gray, (a curious expression, for dove's were not gray), were red-rimmed and squinting at a cameo of Melanie, her lovely heart-shaped face smiling in a benevolent manner.

He turned to them for a moment and stood up, ever the gentlemen.

Pulling her tear-stained face out of the crook of her mother's neck, Ella made her way over to Ashley, tugging on his jacket sleeve and speaking with her little voice.

"I'm sorry about Aunt Melly, Uncle Ashley."

Ashley seemed to crumple and kneeling down, he scooped his not-quite niece and goddaughter into his arms, weeping softly into her hair. She seemed to hiccup with a sob or two of her own and then buried her head in his neck, wailing. Everyone stood there for a moment, lost in grief.

And then, there was a knock at the door. However much his face looked like Ashley, Scarlett's heart tore into myriad pieces as she recognized Melly all over Beau. He rubbed his eyes adoringly and gazed up blearily at her.

She looked at him for a moment and recalled that no one had told him. She then realized, her purpose for coming over to the house and felt pangs of empathy for her nephew.

She motioned to Wade to follow her, deliberating on the best way to tell the boy that his mother was dead. Going up to the playroom, she had stammered, stuttered, her words breaking before finally she just told him and held him while he cried, rubbing soothing circles onto his back as she let him wail for his mother.

Her eyes locked with Wade's the entire time and she opened another arm to him, horrified that her boys had to deal with another loss. It wasn't long before Ella and Ashley, Ashley still cradling her, appeared at the doorway.

There were no words spoken, but the brotherly peck upon her forehead spoke for them. Words were not needed at a time like this.

---

When she had left the room she had seen Beau run into his father's arms, crying like a boy smaller then he was. Scarlett could remember the day he was born like no other day in her life.

Melly had been bleeding, oh God! There had been so much blood, she had put on a brave face, but she felt like vomiting, watching Ashley's child do this to Melly, she remembered vaguely being thankful that Charles had not caused her this much pain when he had given her Wade.

She felt a rush of phantom pain run through her and shuddered for a moment, nearly waking Ella, wobbling unsteadily on her feet. She saw white dots sprinkle at the edge of her consciousness and felt a firm arm around her waist, and looked down, seeing Wade.

His brown eyes were curiously bright, his hair tousled, his face blotchy from trying to suppress his crying, and she absently thought he had never looked more handsome.

---

Scarlett would never remember how she got home that day. She remembered Wade helping her shuffle into the house, still cradling her daughter, as she marched steadily, hunched over, past the nursery on the second floor, pausing only to grab her children's night things. Ordering Prissy to follow her with the things, she walked straight to her room, keeping a firm hold on Wade's hand, even when he looked up at her, questions in his eyes.

She did remember, however, waking up, nestled between her son and daughter. It wasn't immensely comfortable or gratifying, she discovered. Wade was a dead weight on her left arm, and she felt tingling sensations just starting to return to her fingers. Ella was practically on top of her and she coughed on a mouthful of her daughter's copper tresses. Yet she did move them closer into the crooks over her arm and continue to lie there, gazing up at her molded ceiling, thinking about everything and nothing under the sun.

It was then, a sharp knock resounded on her door and a warm, low voice cried out softly.

"Ah's gots da break'est ready, mah lamb, may yo' ol' Mammy come on in?"

Scarlett murmured her affirmative quietly, but Mammy heard nonetheless.

There was a rustle of skirts as a tray was wheeled in, pushed by Mammy. Her warm black eyes were crinkled in a smile as she watched Scarlett carefully detach her arms from her children. She pushed the tray up to the bed and left it there, slowly walking out. Scarlett got a glimpse of a red petticoat swirling under a sea of black and white skirts and bustles and smiled sadly, feeling with a sharp jolt, the absence of Rhett even more.

Shaking her head as if she could physically banish the thought from her mind, she turned to wake up her children. She turned over to her left, placing a hand on her son's head, moving the brown curls away from his eyes, noting that it was time for a haircut and gently patting his cheek awake, whispering his name.

"Wade, Wade Hampton! Wake up or your breakfast will get cold!"

He opened his eyes then, every bit the growing boy he was, perking up at the mention of food. She gazed at him for a minute and then turned over to wake up her daughter. Ella's ginger hair was in complete disarray, arranged around her barely sun kissed face like the mane of a lion. Her little mouth was open, a small trail of drool slowly escaping its corner. Her breath rattled in through a snore, and Scarlett heard Wade give a little giggle. She herself felt one corner of her mouth go up in smile and shook Ella awake, watching as she seemed to start and redden when she realized she had been drooling again.

"Good morning Ella! Would you and Wade like to have your breakfast with Mother this morning?"

At Ella's eager response, her scrambling to sit up, adjust her nightgown, which Scarlett has so meticulously dressed her in the night before, and keen eyes, Scarlett let out a giggle, clapping her hand to her mouth in utter delight. Her daughter was _adorable_. She had never understood why people had fawned so much over her, even with her ape-like newborn features. But the girl was so painfully cute; Scarlett didn't know how she had not realized it before.

Wade impatiently tugged his mother's arm, jolting her into action. She quickly reached over and arranged the breakfast trays over her lap, watching as her children tucked into their meal ravenously, as only children could. Yet, they retained the manners Melly and Scarlett had instilled in them from day one. And then, the aching pain that accompanied Melly's name, muted slightly hit and Scarlett felt her good mood evaporate.

Today was Melly's funeral. How could she have forgotten?

---

It was raining outside.

Pouring actually, a horrible and fitting day for such an occasion; fitting because it seemed the heavens mourned too, raining down their sorrows upon the fresh earth. But it was horrible because Melly would not have wanted sorrow and tears, only joy that she was reunited with her God. _Melly would have hated it, all of it._ Scarlett thought knowingly. She had wanted Scarlett to take care of the funeral. But Scarlett had relapsed days later, her ribs aching from something that had nothing to do with the fall.

After Rhett had left, she had lain at the bottom of the stairs, her cheek to the cool marble, and let her tears fall, her body wracking with the force of her silent grief. She could have cried an eighth sea for how long she had lain there until Pork and Mammy had found her. Her limp body had been cradled in old Pork's arms as her head lolled uselessly over her shoulder, her eyes, though open, were taking in nothing of her surroundings. Her breaths were great and terrible things, shuddering, hiccupping and she remembered being thankful that the children were not there. She had swatted away the hands that had tried to undress her. She had screamed with a hoarse voice for them to leave her and she had listened as Pork's footsteps had retreated, yet Mammy's did not falter away from the bed. There was a hand on her cheek then, a warm and calloused one, and she had leaned into it, crying desperately into to her pillow, her hands, then Mammy's comforting bosom, letting her head rest on the woman's steady heartbeat. That's how she woke then, lying there, stiff and uncomfortable, her cheeks cracking as she moved them in a yawn, dried tears coating them expertly.

The rain continued to pour and Scarlett stood ostracized by the other mourners her children clasped to her on either side, under a large black umbrella that Scarlett's arm shook with the effort of holding steady. Prissy was behind them, quietly sniveling.

The sermon was awful. That man didn't know Melly, not really. He knew the front that she put on, a genteel not wholly untrue front, but a front nonetheless. He and the other mourners, except possibly Ashley didn't really know Melly. They knew the kind woman who headed up charity organizations, who always had time for everyone, who never spoke a harsh word to anyone.

They didn't know the woman who wanted Scarlett to be a mother to her son if she should die, the woman who had bravely kept herself alive while Sherman burnt Atlanta around her, the woman who had kept her eyes wide open as the carriage bumped by the ruins of Twelve Oaks and did not cry, the woman who bravely picked cotton when she could barely walk when Scarlett's own darkies would not, the woman who had cleaned up a murder, the woman who had charged at the filthy varmint of a Yankee with her dead brother's saber in her pale, clammy, and shaking hands, ready to fight to her death, the woman who thanked Belle Watling, a common prostitute for the life of her husband in the middle of a crowded street, full of judging eyes. _No, none of them knew Melly_, she thought, shaking her head ruefully.

It was time then, and Scarlett could hear little Beau's sobs as the clods of earth were prepared to be thrown. Innumerable women and men in drab shades of faded, crisp, and polished black circled him in a way that she almost thought malevolent, comparable to the Three Witches in some old Shakespeare work that she had long since forgotten. She almost cried out, but only almost. She drew her children closer, handing Prissy the umbrella as she pressed their heads into her chest covering their ears with shaking, wan hands, gloved in nothing, and goose pimples rising in ill omen.

She could hear her nephew's cries and she muttered almost feverishly, "Cover his ears, cover his ears, oh! Ashley, cover your boy's ears! Don't let him hear! Cover his ears!"

With strength that was inexplicable, she cradled both her children in her arms; kissing their brows and making sure their ears were covered. And the clods of brown earth hit the wood of the coffin with dull thuds that echoed like gunfire in her mind. Yet she kept her hands on her children's ears, desperately trying to save them from something as ridiculous, but painful, God it was painful, as a sound.

---

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	2. A Promise Pondered

The funeral was over, and she could not have been gladder. Ella and Wade had seemed almost frightened at first when she had tightened her already bruising grip on them, thrust them into Prissy's arms and leapt at little Beau, who unknown to the other mourners was trying to unbury his mother while his father started blankly ahead.

"No Beau! Beau, stop it! Stop it, baby! Beauregard Wilkes! You stop making a fuss this instant! Would your mother have wanted you to do this? Huh, baby?"

Scarlett was on her knees in the mud, her black dress a waterlogged brownish color, her face pale and shivering as she enclosed the little boy in her arms. She spoke slowly to India and Ashley. Her words were plain.

"I'm taking Beau home with me; obviously you are in no state to care for him right now. I'll bring him back when you send for him." Seeing India's glare, an angry one, Scarlett thought quickly that she must feel affronted. "India Wilkes, you will _not_ make a fuss right here. I lost my own Mother and I _am_ a mother. I'll take care of Beau, you know that. You focus on Ashley." Her words were short and curt, but the tone belied that she did not insult India's mothering skills in the slightest, though Scarlett knew they were rather small in comparison to even her own. "I understand what he is going through, India, I have children of my own and no matter what you think, he needs a mother right now, and I am the best person for it."

Taking Beau into her arms, she had sighed in sadness as he wrapped his legs around her waist and his arms locked around her neck, seemingly mindless that Pork had raised an umbrella over his head. He shivered and desperately curled into her embrace. She didn't blame him and felt gratified that she was able to hold him like no one had held her after her mother had died. Beau had always held a special part of her heart; she was a princess to him, someone he looked up to.

She scowled inwardly scolding the entire Wilkes and Hamilton household. Ashley had probably drifted into a daze after she had left, leaving Melanie's boy alone, India couldn't mother anyone to save her life, and Aunt Pitty was so ridiculous she would probably faint if Beau had turned to her for comfort. They were all so foolish, carrying on like this when there was Beau to think of. Melanie's promise settled heavily on her shoulders and she knew she could do nothing for Ashley at the moment but she could do much for Beau, so her decision made, she took him closer to her heart.

Scarlett turned up to Pork and smiled a grimace-like thing in gratitude for the shelter from the lingering rain, but the look in his brown eyes told her that it was not needed. She marched slowly back to her own children who looked up at her with adoration, probably thinking her brave for not-quite yelling at their spinster-like Aunt India. She merely smiled comfortingly at them and murmured in a tone that she could have sworn was her mother's for them to get into the carriage. She placed Beau between her own children and gave them the fluffy blanket that resided under the seat, watching as they snuggled up together, sharing body heat, though they did not understand what the scientific effect of it was.

All three were drowsy and Scarlett felt her breath catch as she gazed at them, Beau could have easily been hers; her children had looked so different. For a moment, she could have sworn she saw a little girl with black curls and bright blue eyes sitting beside Ella but when she squinted, the blue-eyed angel was gone.

Pivoting and almost losing her balance, she walked briskly to her daughter's grave. Bending over almost reverently she whispered to the tombstone of her little girl.

"Mother loves you Bonnie. I miss you every day, my precious angel-baby," she took a shuddering breath, gasping out the rest of her sentence, "you mind your Aunt Melly now, you hear? She loves you so." She planted a cool kiss on her daughter's marker, leaving only teardrops that were mingled and washed away by the rain and a foggy warmth where her breath had been exhaled.

She felt tears slip unnoticed down her cheeks as she picked up her sodden skirts and marched back to the carriage, settling in opposite of the three drowsy children on the left bench. Wade cracked his eyes open a bit, fighting the oncoming sleep to watch his mother. Her face was white, ghost-like, her eyes were green with a ring of purple-black smudges under them, as if her kohl had smeared, the white of her eyes seemed pink from all her crying, and her hands shook as she folded them in her lap and he heard her whisper a name.

"Bonnie..."

With that, Wade closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

---

The unpleasant jostling of the carriage had not fazed the children in their sleep and when the carriage parked in front of the house, Scarlett noted thankfully that it was not raining.

Pork had opened the door and instead of getting Scarlett's hand, she had handed him Wade. Prissy had been handed Ella, and Scarlett with surprising strength had hoisted Beau up and into her arms, stumbling rather unseemly out of the carriage. The children were carried into the house, where Mammy was waiting. They had to be woken, changed into warm pajamas, at Scarlett's insistence, even though it was at best, late afternoon, early evening. They had then been carried up into the only bed big enough for all three of them, Scarlett's own.

Tucking each in, she had kissed their foreheads, noting gratefully that none were more warm then usual, none feverish in the least. They were just small children, Wade only ten, Ella barely six, and Beau approaching eight years. Scarlett looked at the bed and noticed with apprehension that there was no room for her in the bed. Wade was on the edge, Beau next, then Ella, and no where could she squeeze in.

She ushered Prissy in, undressing in a small place in her closet that no prying eyes could see, even if the children had woken. She finished changing her mourning garb into a cotton nightdress with no frills. She then donned a black wrapper; one of the one's Rhett had left behind and breathed in deeply. It smelled like him, cigar smoke, brandy, and something that was distinctly Rhett alone. It was musky, very masculine and she found herself aching for his arms in a way that left her lightheaded. She knew where she would sleep that night. She refused Mammy's offer of supper and as she shooed Prissy out, she gently closed the door to her bedroom.

Tiptoeing and not quite knowing why, she made her way past the nursery, only a door down to Rhett's room. The room he had slept in when she had kicked him out of theirs, _a stupid decision if I had ever made one,_ she thought sadly. She peeled back the cool covers and slipped in silently, her head hitting the soft down pillow and sighed in relief. The day had been awful and she wanted nothing more then to lay down and never wake up, but quickly crossed herself at the thought, though she had long since given up on such beliefs. It was a deeply ingrained habit and she could not help but give in to it's calling.

Her wild black hair fanned out behind the pillow, no longer pulled painfully tight, and she closed her eyes, wincing at the dryness of them. Her mouth relaxed from its grim expression of sorrow and smoothed out into a thin line. She curled up on her side, clutching at the covers that still smelt of her husband and whimpering softly, she felt like she was going to cry, but knew that she had no more tears. It was horrible thing when you had no tears, for your throat and mouth became sticky and lumpy, your nose ran, leaking what your eyes did not, and you became terribly parched, your body hiccupping and shuddering in sorrowful convulsions, wracked with sobs that could not be released but to gasp and choke for air and wail, keen, moan in the agony of pent up sorrow.

Finally, exhaustion claimed her, hours and hours after she had lain there, just as she thought she might have heard Rhett's voice mingled with Mammy's scolding hush, but thought blearily, that she must be dreaming.

---

The front door opened with a click as Rhett Butler turned his key, his suitcase in one hand, his hat tucked under the other. His gray suit was soaked through and he shivered under his coat. It was close to midnight and yet, Mammy was sitting in the parlor, seemingly waiting for him. The wind was chilly outside and the weather, though not raining was drizzling heavily, about to break into rain. He quickly shut the door and locked it again. He tipped his head to Mammy in a completely respectful manner yet it seemed that all favor he had gained in her eyes was gone as she grumbled and hobbled heavily to the kitchens and her expansive quarters, mutterings that could not have been anything other then offensive to his ears.

He knew that it had probably something to do with Scarlett and shook his head darkly. Leaving his musty suitcase at the foot of the stairs, half in the way, he was too tired to care that it was blocking walking space. The house was unusually silent, a somber sort of silence as he treaded unsteadily up, heading for the nursery even though he was too tired to even converse and the children would not know he had been there at all.

When he opened the door and saw the beds still made, his anger grew. She had probably shipped her children off to Tara like the burdens she thought they were. Scarlett's less then motherly behavior always made him angry and tended to make up for it by spoiling them rotten. He quietly shut the door and not caring what time it was went to wake his wife. He was going to have words with her now, she was so eager to speak the last time they had seen each other, what would she have to say now if she wasn't bedding Ashley Wilkes now, with Melanie's expressed permission?

His opened the door loudly, letting it slam backwards on it's hinges and was vastly surprised when only a tousled brown head had peaked above the covers then mumbled sleepily and turned back over into Morpheus' arms. He walked closer and saw, with great surprise that there were three figures in the bed and not one of them was Scarlett, not that she would have fit anyway. Ella and Wade were snuggled up closely on the edges of the bed while Beau faced the other way, clutching onto a stuffed toy that Scarlett must have given him to sleep with for comfort. He wondered briefly why the boy was here, and sleeping in Scarlett's bed, and wondered fiercely if the boy's father was here too.

Shaking his head in his musings, he remembered how tired he had been, and pulled on a night shirt, his hand searching futilely for his dressing gown, but not finding it, shrugged its loss off. It might be in his room, he didn't quite remember where he had left things. As he stumbled into his room, his hand searched for a light. Finding one, he looked over in surprise.

He had found his black dressing gown.

It was in his bedroom.

In his bed.

Around his sleeping wife, to be exact.

With an effort he did not previously possess, he reached over and shook her awake, watching in something that was quite detached and not amused, he looked on as she groggily peered up at him and then gave a soft "oh" of surprise.

"Oh, is right, wife. May I ask, pet, what you are doing in my bed, wearing my dressing gown?" Scarlett noticed the lack of the "my" before what she had always hopefully deemed as an endearment, but knew now it was a taunting one at best.

"I-I-I" Scarlett felt a hot flush creep stealthily along her neck, ears, and back and bowed her head.

"You-You-You, what?" His words were cruel.

Scarlett felt a tired bit of rage propel through and Rhett saw it alight and die in her eyes before she shrugged out of the bed. The utter worn look also present in her eyes surprised him though. She quietly removed the wrapper, handed it to him and bowed her head in something that he knew could not have been subservience but seemed achingly similar to his eyes. A quote came to him then prattled on by his snotty school teacher in fifth form "how the mighty have fallen" and it took a great deal of effort not to voice this quote.

"Never mind, Rhett. I shall simply find another bedroom." She turned to go, but he grabbed at her arm.

"Not yet, Scarlett. Sit down."

He forcefully propelled her to a chair by the fireplace that was dying into embers slowly. He pulled a chair opposite her and looked at her taking in her visage. Her black curls were limp and damp, her skin was clammily pale, and her eyes were a glassy green that had nothing to do with tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but what came out was only a racking cough. Her body bent double and seized as she coughed harshly, the echo rattling around the room for several minutes as he gazed on astonishingly. Scarlett never got sick. She had only been sick during her pregnancies, and _the fall_.

Her arms gripped at the arms of the chair so tight that her knuckles lost all color in them and she let one arm rise to her throat and instantly he rose, concerned. He returned to her side with a glass of water, giving it to her, watching as she sloshed it, trying to hold onto it before he steadied her hands with his own and helped her sip. She gave him a half-smile of gratitude before setting the glass down.

"Pardon me, Rhett."

He tipped his head in acknowledgement and opened his mouth to speak once more before a loud, mournful cried reached both of their ears.

Then "Mother! Mother," Ella's cries met her ears, soft as they were, "I want Mother, where's Mother?"

She wasted no time and briskly made her way to the room which was hers, Rhett following behind. She threw open the wooden doors, not caring that they probably woke Wade and Beau as well. She made her way to the bed, going to Beau and Ella's side. Ella's cries grew louder and yet Wade and Beau did not wake. Scarlett rushed to her side and picked her up as she would a small child, cradling her closely. She let her daughter's small head rest against her heartbeat for a moment; the comforting rhythm that she knew had always calmed Ella, even when she was a baby.

Scarlett made her way over to him, small coughs troubling her frame as Rhett watched; amazed that she did not just irritably shush the girl. She cradled Ella gently in her arms, pushing her small ginger head down to her bosom, where Rhett knew her heart lied, letting the girl cling and cry as she carried her into Rhett's room where a rocking chair resided. She sat down heavily, coughing briefly, and began to rock.

"Now baby, tell Mother what's wrong." Ella hiccupped and cried between her tale and Scarlett got hardly a word out of it, but her hushes and kisses seemed to help and she kept rocking, murmuring to her daughter.

"I don't want you to die, Mother! Please, say you won't die! I don't want you to go underground with Aunt Melly!"

"Hush, baby, it's all right now, Mother's got you."

Rhett looked on in shock as she eased her daughter into the recently vacated bed. It was painful to see her cater to her children like this when there should have been two more to cater to. Rhett felt his heart constrict as he looked at Ella, wishing fervently that it were Bonnie who cried out for Scarlett, or perhaps a little baby who cried in the night for his mother. He watched for a moment in agony as Scarlett gazed down at her daughter. He then pulled on her hand and almost dragged her from the room, down the stairs to the dining room, to the liquors cabinet, and noted without great shock that it was only half full.

He sloshed the decanter's contents into two glasses and forced one in front of his wife with a soft growl, "Drink, pet".

So she did. With a long practiced movement that never failed to amuse him, she snapped her wrist back and downed the drink in one sharp movement, not sputtering at all. Rhett did the same, poured another, then three more, watching as she refused after the second and watched him quietly getting more and more drunk. His face became redder and his collar unbuttoned as he consumed more and more of the brandy.

"Now, pet, tell me what you've been up to." He slurred.

She seemed to anger and forced calm words out of her mouth.

"You're drunk again, Rhett, but perhaps this once I'll indulge you." Her words were cool and she continued speaking words that just spilled forth. "You missed Melly's funeral and the children and I had to stand all alone. God damnit Rhett, you may not give a damn about me, but what about my children? I know they aren't yours but you are the only father they've ever known. How dare you leave them like this?"

Rhett laughed coldly, loud and unpleasant to her ear. "Do stop talking, pet. You don't give a damn about your children. You were and are a horrible mother. You'd rather have not had any of them, isn't that right, pet?"

Scarlett felt a blind fury overtake her as she lunged across the table, blindly clawing at him. Suddenly, Rhett wasn't laughing anymore as Scarlett reached across and backhanded him, hard.

"How dare you?" She breathed sharply before clawing at him once more. "How dare you?" Red danced at her vision and she only wanted to hurt him, to make him feel an ounce of what she was feeling. Outrage made her shake in something that had nothing to do with sadness or illness.

Then the chair overbalanced, and the wobbly position she had been in drove her on top of him.

She was so angry, spitting mad, and she wanted to hurt him as much as she was hurting then, but suddenly she was kissing him, and he was kissing back.

She pulled back reeling in shock and opened her mouth to speak, but he had only shushed her and with a voice, octaves lower then usually spoke softly. "Don't." Her voice died in her throat and she gazed down upon him. Then overcome with a rush of passion and emotion, and feeling him stirring under hip in their precarious position let her lips descend once more on his. And oh God, buttons were forcefully popped off, and moans, grunts, panting had filled the room.

She had kissed him painfully hard, burying her hands in his shirt, tugging him closer while he tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled hard, causing a painful sensation that didn't faze her in the slightest. Her mouth traced down his neck, chest, then lower still until his heavy breathing became the only sound in the room. And then, the tables were turned and she thrust up to meet him and they were moving in tandem, a rhythm older then time itself, and then it was over, and he carried her back to a guest room and fiercely marked her with his mouth, his touch, as she reciprocated in turn.

She called his name, he called hers and she whispered desperately that she loved him and hated him and wanted him and needed him and loathed him and adored him, and suddenly he was doing the same and they were holding onto each other tightly and falling asleep in each other's arms, a content smile on their faces.

She didn't wake again that night, and woke later that morning to a cold bedside.

He was gone again. The note said not to expect him soon, perhaps not within the next year. It was a cold note, colder then she expected, if she had expected a note at all that was.

_Scarlett,_

_I've gone to Europe on pressing business. Give love to the children and buy them something in my name, to keep my affections running. I don't know how you seduced me into your bed last night, but I assure you, I was drunk and it changes nothing, pet. What I do remember was a valid point about Ella and Wade, do not slander my name to them. _

_Please try and wait a respectable time before sinking your claws into Ashley Wilkes, give his son time to grieve, preferably. _

_If you need me, contact my solicitor. I believe you know his name, I may not be back for a year, and rest assured appearances will be kept up and monthly stipends will make their way reassuringly each month._

_Divorce is still an option, Scarlett._

_Do not come after me, pet.  
__Rhett_

She turned over into the pillow and did not cry. She knew not how long she had lain there, not crying but wishing she was. She got up then, minutes, hours, possibly only seconds later and rose effortlessly; her face was blank as she ordered Prissy to help her dress.

Another black mourning dress, a high collar pinned closed at her throat with a cameo of her daughter's face, a beautiful ivory carving.

Her warm fingers caressed the broach for a moment and then in a hoarse voice, affected by the exposure to the cold, unrelenting rain of yesterday, prearranged breakfast to be served in an hour's time.

She made her way, skirts swirling about her ankles demurely to her room where two of the children slept. Reaching over she shook them awake and told them to go down to the nursery to change for breakfast, that she would be there in a moment to help them. Retracing her steps she walked to Rhett's room where her daughter laid, her mouth open wide, and the ever present trail of drool escaping it. She used her voice to wake the girl and gave her the same instructions, unable to resist as Ella raised her thin arms for a good morning hug. Ella was surprised when she was not put down immediately, but swept up in her mother's arms and being carried to her room to get dressed.

Scarlett had shooed away Lou and Prissy as they offered to take Ella off her hands and had marched onward to Ella's little closet. She picked out a small frock, a pale gray color with tiny little flowers on the bodice. Dressing her daughter efficiently, she plaited Ella's curls into two tails on either side of her head and tied them with silver ribbon. Holding her hand, she led her from the room and down to the table where Wade and Beau were sitting, already dressed and waiting for Scarlett and Ella.

Beau had to borrow some older clothes of Wade's and the little charcoal trousers had to be rolled up. She sighed and realized the foolishness of not getting a bag of clothes and necessities for him. That would be the next stop.

Motioning Prissy and Pork aside she told them after breakfast to ready the carriage for leaving they were to visit Aunt Pitty's house again. The rest of breakfast was passed in silence and Scarlett began thinking about leaving Atlanta for a while with the children, only one problem. Melanie's promise tugged at her, and she knew that Beau would be coming along. It wasn't that Scarlett didn't love the boy, because she did, but she really wanted some time with her children. Thinking on where she could possibly go was a problem and she could come up with nothing better then Tara.

But she didn't want to go to Tara; at least, she didn't want to stay at Tara. It was Suellen's now as much as it pained her, she was lucky Will was there. However, she was more determined then ever to restore her former home to glory.

It was then she noticed her children were squirming, anxious to start the day. Pasting a half-genuine smile, she rose and picking up Ella, led Beau by the hand out of the door, while Wade grasped at the small of her back, around her tightly corseted waist in a seek of her presence, and she knew that none of them wanted to go back and see Ashley, but not Melanie, never Melanie, never again.

---

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	3. A Child Collected

It wasn't raining when she took Pork's extended hand out of the carriage, but it threatened too. Scarlett almost found herself shaking her fist to the heavens, asking why it kept raining, didn't they have enough gloom in their lives right then?

She looked on as Wade took Ella's small little hand in his own larger one and felt a pang of happiness lift in her heart as she took Beau's hand in hers and let her children lead her to the door. Beau was dragging his feet, unwilling to go back to the house where everyone was crying. In his childish logic, he would rather stay with Aunt Scarlett and Wade and Ella where they would talk and play with him, and Aunt Scarlett would read him stories and kiss him goodnight. When Mommy had been away, or in heaven as his Aunt Scarlett had told him, Daddy wouldn't even look at him, Aunt Pitty would start crying and swoon on the couch, and India would try to smother him in hugs. Beau had been happier then anything when his Aunt Scarlett had taken him to her house for a little while.

Scarlett gently knelt next to him and looked at him in the eyes.

"Now listen Beau, your daddy is going to be very upset right now, and I'm going to ask him some questions that might make him very upset, but I don't want you to say anything until you listen to the whole thing, alright baby?"

When she had his curious nod of assent, she determinedly squared her shoulders and set out to ring the bell, but Ella had already done so, and was now appearing to be in the motion of doing so again. Scarlett took her daughter's hand tightly, squeezing. Ella's little cry made her drop the wrist in shock.

"Oh baby, I'm sorry!"

Ella looked up at her mother with watery eyes, "Its okay Mother."

Scarlett bent for a moment, not sure what to do, what would Melly have done? _Well, _her mind unhelpfully supplied, _Melly wouldn't have done **that**_. _What would Rhett have done?_ And then, she had her answer. Kissing Ella's reddening wrist, she stood up again.

"How's that, Ella?" She asked with concern. The poor child would be terrified of her again, _great_, she said with irony, _all that work for naught._

"Fine," Ella whispered with a smile, "all better!" She beamed up at her mother, forgetting about the wrist. _Thank you, Rhett. _

India opened the door with a small frown on her face but quickly forced it into a too-large grin. She made a motion to hug her nephew but he leaned into Scarlett instead. For a moment, Scarlett wavered. She could push the child into her arms, or ignore the hurt in India's eyes. She let the matter lie. She wasn't a saint, after all. If Beau didn't want India to hug him, well, she didn't really blame him.

Scarlett cleared her throat quietly and suppressed a small cough as India seemed to come back to a conscious plane and invite them inside, though the distaste was evident in her eyes.

She asked quietly where Ashley was and received a tight-lipped grimace as the woman motioned her aside on the stairwell, her manner was alarming to Scarlett who quickly bent down to Wade and told him to take Beau and Ella to the playroom and close the door.

India ushered her closer as if there were prying ears all around her that would listen and spread some sort of rumor around her.

"Scarlett, my brother has been drinking liquors rather heavily since Melanie took ill, only recently, now that she's, you know, gone" here she paused to dap at her eyes appropriately "he's been drinking himself into an early" another dap and lowering of the voice "grave".

She looked so ashamed after she had said this that Scarlett felt all her bottled anger explode out of her in a rush.

" India! Ashley has lost his wife, he loved her! God's nightgown! What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you? So help me, if you've been pestering him, I'll hit you right on the mouth! You evil wench! Can you show some compassion _once_ in your life? Are you that much of a frigid peahen spinster?"

Her tirade left her breathless and she opened her mouth to continue when Ashley stumbled out, obviously drunk. The anger died and her furious replies died on her tongue. Sloshing the liquid noisily, he missed the glass and nearly soaked the carpet through. _Oh dear, _she thought, _this house will smell like a bar for ages._

"Hello Scarlett, would you like a drink?"

She felt her shoulders sag, her eyes droop and her hands fold in her skirts. He was trying so hard to be like he was before she died! The manners, the cordiality!

"No dearest, but let's go ahead and sit in the parlor and talk, shall we?"

Her mannerisms were so painfully similar to what she had done when her Pa was drunk, or sometimes even Rhett. The only difference was that Rhett had never remembered the nights she had gently tucked him in and was never there in the morning.

She was suddenly Ellen O'Hara and she couldn't help but think how little she wanted to be like her mother at the time. _Strange how all of the sudden the things I want are no longer so! _

Once Ashley was successfully set down onto a couch, Scarlett closed the parlor's fine oak doors firmly, switching the lock on and closing the blinds. No one needed to see him like this, Melly would have hated for anyone to see him like this.

She turned towards him and sat down quietly.

"Ashley."

He looked up at her, eyes red-rimmed with tears, face bloated with alcohol, and hands shaking in something else. It seemed that was all he needed. That one word, just his name, set off his consciousness.

"What am I going to do without her? How can I go on? She was everything! I'm ashamed to say it Scarlett, I truly am, but I can't even look at Beau, he's just like her! Oh God! I'm a terrible father; I can't even look at my son! But he's just Melly all over again! I can't bear to see him, I'm wretched, and I know I am, but I can't! I can't stand it! I can't! I can't!"

And then his face was in her skirts, his hands twisting piteously, and Scarlett couldn't help but compare him to Wade as a boy, always hiding about, never facing the world on his own. She stroked his blonde hair, tinged with golden ash softly and murmured to him.

"I know Ashley, I know."

She did not know how long she had sat there before he moved away, seemingly ashamed of his conduct. He stood at the window, wringing his hands, his suit smoothed from its rumpled state.

His words, eloquent as ever as he stumbled over an elaborate apology "I'm sorry Scarlett, I apologize for my improper – that is to say, I didn't want to offend – or insinuate – I, I'm sorry."

She shushed him then and watched him sit back down. When he seemed to be capable of listening to her speak with his full attention, she started to talk.

"Ashley, I've come to a conclusion of sorts. I need to get away. I need to get away from Atlanta for a while. It's just too much too fast. First, the fall, losing the baby in the fall" a tear escaped her eyes here, yet she did not wipe it away "Bonnie" and then "Melly", the last blow to it all.

She knew she was crying but continued on, they both were crying, so it didn't matter really.

"I'm going to Tara for a couple of days and then I'm going somewhere else, possibly Savannah to see my Aunts. I'm taking the children, and I would like to take Beau as well."

There. She had said it. She knew she could keep her promise to Melanie in one way now. She had to take Beau away. He needed to leave Atlanta's dreary, gray pace. Scarlett could feel herself suffocating under its harsh pressure of conformity and longed for Tara with a passion she knew not existed in herself.

To her ultimate surprise and disappointment the answer was a simple "fine". She looked at him, incredulously.

He looked right at her, wearier then she'd ever seen him. "Scarlett, I cannot bear to look at my son. I'm not a fool; I can see he'd be taken care of much better with you. Melanie told me of how you helped bring him into the world. I'm calling on that promise you made her, please."

He looked so utterly defeated that she found herself rising to meet him. She put one hand on his cheek, cupping it sisterly.

"Yes Ashley, of course."

He leaned into her touch and covered her hand with his own.

"Thank you Scarlett, you are a darling." His tone was strangled and the promise of goodbye rang out in the air.

She rose gracefully letting her ebony skirts swirl like a dance around her ankles.

"I'll see to Beau's things then."

He nodded and spoke once more. "Send him in, will you please?"

She nodded and made her way out of the room, softly calling for her nephew.

---

It was some time later that Beau exited the room his father was in and made his way to the playroom, time well spent with Ella and Wade, playing small games with them and talking quietly, listening to what they had been doing recently.

When he reached the doorway Scarlett beckoned him in and he instantly found his way beside her, so close that he might as well have been in her lap.

She spoke up then.

"Beau, Wade, Ella, how would you like to travel to Tara for a few days, and maybe Savannah after? Would you like to get away for a while?"

When she was met with eager nods, squeals, and embraces, she knew that her decision was the right one. She led the children into Beau's small nursery and began to travel over to his bureau. She opened the mahogany drawers quietly and began to pull folded clothes out. Trousers, pants, short pants, shirts, nightshirts, underpants, socks, stockings, and a few little hats and jackets all when into small valises that Scarlett knew would have to be transferred to a larger one, for traveling sake.

When she was done and she was lugging the suitcases down the stairs India came out of the kitchen with a steaming bowl of soup. She turned red with indignation of the implied statement that Scarlett had made by carrying a suitcase of Beau's things out of the house.

Scarlett gave her a warning look and shook her head tightly. She pantomimed towards the parlor and then shook her head again.

Speaking the next part in a falsely cheery voice she said "Well, we're off to Tara this afternoon. I'll write you India!" With a faked wave she and the children were off.

---

It had taken another two hours to pack her things and the children and arrange for the house to be taken care of in her absence for God knew how long.

They had barely made it to the train station on time and they had to run to the Depot to pick up their tickets quicker then she'd ever picked them up before. She had wired the station for four tickets to Jonesboro and had also sent Will a telegram to pick her up at the usual spot; she hoped and prayed he would receive it time. Scarlett would have to drive the carriage herself if he was not there. After all, she didn't trust any of the carpet-baggers trying to settle in Clayton County as far as she could throw them.

She had ushered the children onto the train, quickly finding an empty compartment, not as luxurious as the ones up front, but a middle one. It was fair, the wallpaper was peeling near the ceiling and the fake oak paneling was chipping through its falsely glossy finishing. But, the seats were comfortable and as the children spread about opening paper books with small pens of colored ink they giggled and talked merrily. _You'd never know_, she thought with irony, _that they'd lost their mother and aunt. Children are remarkable. _

She leaned back into the seat and unbuttoned her dress at the wrists folding it back shamefully to expose her wrists and loosening the high collar in a miniscule amount. She kept her eyes half open for the duration of the trip, keeping the children interested until she felt the train start to slow and halt to a stop.

It was with a huge source of relief that she saw Will in the thinning crowd. His wooden leg was covered in denim overalls and he was wearing a loose gingham shirt. His hat was lopsided, as was his smile and he was chewing on straw. He looked so picturesque – so welcoming that she felt tears sting at her eyes and threw herself into his arms.

At that he stiffened a bit. He wasn't a debonair, rich, suave young man, and as such was not used to getting an embrace from a woman he was not affiliated with. Scarlett suspected he wasn't used to getting those embraces either, though Suellen had given him two children already.

Why, she had even gotten a smug wire only two days after Bonnie's death that Suellen was expecting again! Scarlett remembered taking it up to her room and crying for hours for her little girl and the baby she had lost on the stairs. All that remained of her lost baby was a small stain on the marble that had been scrubbed furiously yet would never come out, eventually covered with a deeper velvet carpet of make-believe.

Scarlett thought that her sister must be close to having her baby soon, maybe even a month away. Will had two daughters, Susie (named Susan after Will's youngest sister who had died of the smallpox when she was a babe); the eldest was just a few months younger then Ella. They had a born just after Bonnie. She remembered the telegram then too.

It was just as smug. Suellen had much better pregnancies then she did. Scarlett, of course, was not built for having babies. Or at least, she hadn't been before Wade. She was just seventeen and though she had lovely breasts for her age, her hips were narrow and her waist had been a small seventeen inches before it's thickening with child. Wade's delivery had been surprisingly easy after the silver tool that had grasped his infantile shoulders and heaved him out, expelling him from the comfort of her womb.

She had woken later with curves to her body, not angles and sharpness. Her waist had been regained again, a half inch added, nothing to grieve about. Her hips had broadened pleasantly, or so she had come to think when she had birthed Ella. Her breasts had only improved, in her opinion becoming fuller and heavier in her dresses. _That was the difference between Melly and I, _she realized, _I changed after childbirth. She didn't. We were both tiny things, really. Wade came too soon, I wasn't ready for him. Poor Melly, she would have been ready at twelve. _

Suellen had always been built thicker. Her waist had been seventeen inches at fourteen. But had increased to twenty inches at seventeen and she seemed to fill into her pregnancies without the awkwardness Scarlett had on her petite frame. Scarlett was very short, an inch or two above five feet, Suellen was taller, like her mother.

Yet Suellen did not relish in her pregnancies either. The few times she had seen her while she was expecting she seemed just as miserable and unhappy about her situation as Scarlett was.

Scarlett remembered her youngest niece, a quiet little toddler of two years, Elisabeth-Jane with her blonde messy hair and dull brown eyes. She dragged herself out of her musing and pushed the children forward.

"Will, this is my nephew, Beau Wilkes; you haven't seen him since he was real little. He's come to stay with us."

Hellos were exchanged and the buggy was soon loaded and on it's way to Tara.

---

When they arrived people poured out of the door to greet them. Susie ran out and stood behind her mother, whom, Scarlet noticed, was looking miserable in a worn frock that was tight around her swollen belly. She had one hand in the small of her back to stay the pressure and looked so generally uncomfortable that Scarlett felt empathy for her. She helped Ella out of the carriage and let the children run at her.

She had the foresight to stop in the small shop in Jonesboro to pick up gifts for the girls. She swept Susie into a hug first pressing a kiss along her forehead and then putting her hands on the girl's shoulders and pushed her back as to get a look at her.

She felt a wrongful satisfaction as she noticed that Ella was much prettier then Susie. Susie had her mother's brownish locks, dully straight. Her eyes were a sparkling brown though, but much too large and far apart on a face that was largely Robillard. She had a very pretty smile and stepped aside letting her younger sister toddle at her Aunt Scarlett.

She felt something inside her clench tightly at the little girl's toothy smile. Bonnie would be a lot bigger then Elisabeth was but she was little enough to remind her of her late daughter. She thought of her little girl sprawled about on the ground, her little face so white and cold. She remembered all too clearly and looked closely at her nieces.

Elisabeth was short, small-boned with frizzy blonde hair that looked just right on a face that Scarlett recognized as largely Careen's. Scarlett rather thought she was nothing much to look at yet, not as pretty as her Bonnie had been at least. _My Bonnie was the prettiest little girl there ever was! But my nieces are cute, I will admit. I need to stop thinking about Bonnie. She's dead and she's never coming back. _

She pressed a quick kiss on her sister's cheek and thanked her for such short notice hospitability. Suellen was all fake smiles but Scarlett was grateful for the front anyway, she didn't want to pick a fight with her sister now.

She grabbed her valises and instructed a meeker servant girl, Pansy, to help her carry the children's clothing. Scarlett wanted to change out of black; it was much too hot for Tara's weather, even in October.

---

It was only three weeks later that Suellen went into labor. Will had left for the next county to do some trading, and would not be back for three days more. Scarlett had been attending to the children, playing some silly game with them. Little Elisabeth had been cradled on her lap, mumbling something about her new dolly, when Scarlett had heard it. Suellen had definitely cried out. _Ah, _she thought, _the baby's coming. _

Pulling up her skirts to aid in her speed she ran up the stairs. Suellen was there in her bed and Scarlett could see a wide circle of dampness and Scarlett knew that the baby was coming. She didn't need to ask the question as she looked into her sister's grimacing face. _She'll be fine. She's got hips like Mammy's now. _Snickering at her own joke, she left the room. She immediately headed back down the stairs and told Lou to be ready to ride to Doctor's Fontaine later that day, no sense and getting him now.

The day passed agonizingly slow and Scarlett sat with her sister on and off stopping for lunch, a cool drink, or even just a quiet time with Ella, Beau, and Wade. Elisabeth and Susie had thrown a fit when they couldn't' play with their mother, but had quieted down and napped when they learnt the baby was coming.

But in the late afternoon as the pains got stronger, Suellen would cry out for her, an unusual phenomenon and she told Lou to get Doctor Fontaine.

When the darkie returned without the doctor and no logical explanation Scarlett felt herself heave with frustration. She turned then to Dilcey, a midwife among other things. They explained it all to Suellen who was now in a tattered nightgown, her hair plaited into a smooth braid, stroked through with sweat and matted to her forehead in wisps. Her teeth were gritted but she nodded and did not protest.

It was sometime past supper when the pains became closer and closer and Dilcey said it was all right to push.

Scarlett remembered her bloody hands as she caught her newest niece in her hands. Small, squalling, nothing utterly unusual about this one, healthy though, which was always a good thing. Suellen had kissed the baby's head and smiled tiredly. Dark hair it seemed, blue eyes that were likely to change. A name, already decided was spoken from her lips, Grace Anne Benteen, third and youngest child of Sue and Will Benteen. _Grace, _she smiled at her sister and the child, _welcome to the world. With Sue as your mother, good luck._

"Thank you, Scarlett;" Suellen breathed tiredly, "you were great today."

"Don't be silly," Scarlett said businesslike, "I've birthed three children and I delivered Beau. It was nothing."

"Nonetheless," her sister ground out, "you didn't have to."

She nodded in mutual understanding to her sister. It seemed like it wasn't quite time to bury the hatchet yet. _But maybe soon_, she thought speculatively. _Though who really cares, Sue is such a brownnoser. I've never really liked her anyway. _

---

The next morning she read the mail and thought it was utterly ironic and fitting that the day her sister had gained another child was the day she had gained one as well.

She left the papers in her room, folded over haphazardly and had anyone cared to read, they would have found the custody papers for one Beauregard Wilkes, transferred guardianship to one Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler, sincerely one Ashley Wilkes, one Melanie Wilkes (now deceased), and one Henry Hamilton.

She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed in deeply.

She exhaled and immediately pasted on another smile. Will was home tomorrow and she needed to run Tara in Suellen's stead. She felt Suellen's grasp around the home tightening and she wanted desperately to escape.

But for now she would stay, perhaps another week or so, and then she would take the children, send for Prissy and travel elsewhere.

_Scarlett O'Hara, _she thought amusedly, _lost cause walking._

---

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	4. A Letter Loved

It was only days after Grace's christening that Scarlett noticed the letter that had accompanied the custody papers for Beau. She opened the letter and looked at the sloping handwriting of Ashley Wilkes for several minutes before actually reading the contents of the letter.

_Dearest Scarlett,_

_I know you must be feeling very puzzled as to my actions. I know that Melanie would be ever disappointed in me for this choice, giving our child to someone who loves him very much, but is not one of his parents. But I know that she would be even more disappointed if he stayed with me and I was not providing the best lifestyle for himthat I can. _

_I'm going abroad Scarlett, another World Tour perhaps. Ah, the glory of the old days! I cannot say how long I will be gone. I'm dreadfully undependable and I'm afraid that I was never really cut out for this kind of life. I do not possess your hardiness, dearest, however much I admire you for it._

_I can only ask that you tell him in the best way possible and make sure he knows that I do this only because I love him. This is not a joint custody Scarlett._

_He is solely yours now. I ask that you do not change his last name to Butler, for I wish him to retain my name if that is all he will have of me. This letter is bittersweet, dearest, and it pains me greatly to write this. I leave the mills in your care as well; fear not, they are taken great care of. _

_Please understand that this was not my wish alone, it was dear Melanie's as well. It was written in her will that we should share my son's care but I have changed his guardians and have also changed my will._

_He is my sole benefactor and I leave you as his guardian. I am not dying Scarlett, do not fear. I am not ill, nor do I think I will suddenly become so. I've realized with Melly's passing that I need to straighten myself out before I take on the task of raising a child._

_All my prayers, gratitude and brotherly devotion,  
__Ashley_

It was another abandonment to Scarlett, the only two influential males in her life were both gone, gone away and leaving Scarlett alone again. Alone to pick up the shards of broken lives and carry on. However, she did not worry. She had done it before, she would do it again. After all, tomorrow was another day.

Suellen was back on her feet and had named Scarlett godmother of her child. There was a quiet unspoken truce, a mutual burying of the hatchet that needed no words to be complete.

It was with relief and remorse that Scarlett kissed her nieces goodbye and then her sister, a lingering press of lips to a cool brow and a swift embrace that spoke volumes that she and her children departed Tara. Tara had been good for them, but Scarlett realized it would never be _hers_ again. She was grateful that it would always be a constant in her life though. It had not been long before through some divine intercession that Careen had sent a letter inviting Scarlett to Charleston to stay with their Aunts who had taken to spending all their time with Careen in their loneliness.

She would stay with her aunts for a while, not long, because Eulalie and Pauline's house, while very nice because of Scarlett's monthly checks, was not big enough for three growing children, their nursemaid, or Scarlett.

She did not know how to tell Beau that she was his adopted mother, but decided the best approach was to get it over with as soon as possible, so that no stray questions would lead to his further hurt. She took him aside on the train and told him that his daddy was going away for a long time, but not to visit his mother, she was quick to assure, and that she would be his guardian from then on. He seemed to already understand and Scarlett wondered if Ashley had prepared him for this, or perhaps, Melanie.

The rest of the train ride was spent in silence. They would not be in Savannah for several hours and Scarlett, ordering Wade in charge closed her eyes and half slept.

---

Savannah was a slow, quiet town. The trip had taken much of the day and Scarlett felt the sleep, grainy in her eyes. She took one ungloved hand and rubbed at her face, pinching her cheeks, biting her lips for color and smoothing down her braided chignon. Her dress was not black, it had been over six months since her daughter had died and she was not blood related to Melanie. She had mourned her a proper time, but Scarlett felt as though she might go mad if she wore black anymore.

When she stepped of the train, Prissy was there to meet her and so was Jeremiah, her grandfather's valet and butler. She was holding a sleeping Ella in her arms and let the two darkies take the bags. Once they were loaded into a carriage, Scarlett settled her sleeping daughter on her lap and quietly looked around, smiling and answering her son and Beau's questions.

She pondered on Ashley's unusual legal actions. She resented him deeply for it, he was not supposed to be pathetic and weak. He was supposed to be strong, and able. But he was not and had shunted his responsibilities on Scarlett. Of course, she knew it was for the best, but it made it even harder to move on, to bond with her children, and maybe even to win back her husband's love. There. She'd done it again. Thinking of Rhett always made her want to sob, laugh, scream, cry, dance, but most of all, it made her think of love and sorrow. She wondered what he was doing in England and wondered if he had gotten the letter she had sent him, telling him of Ashley's decision to give her custody of Beau.

---

_It was raining again_, he thought gloomily. _All it ever did in London was rain_. And all Rhett ever did in London was drink.

He never drank enough to lose his gentlemanly appearance, but just enough to forget. To forget her face, tear stricken and ghostly pale when he told her didn't give a damn about her, her face, white again as she grasped frantically before falling down the stairs into a crumpled bloody heap, her voice that night when she gasped and moaned his name, when she dug her nails into his back in painful pleasure, when she saw him after he brought Bonnie back and he thought he was fooling himself when she saw something shining her eyes, something for him, something for him that was not malice. He thought of her face on that day at Twelve Oaks, petulant, striking, and oddly beautiful in her angered embarrassment. He wondered what she would have done had he proposed to her then. He thought of her angered and frightened face the night of the siege of Atlanta. He thought of her after Big Sam had rescued her, white again, stammering, shaking. He remembered her telling him she hated him for getting her pregnant, but later crying into his arms afterward and mumbling an apology. He saw her face after Bonnie was born, tired but proud. He saw her after Bonnie had died, screaming at him, and blaming him. He saw her a month ago, weeping in his bed, wrapped in his robe, he saw her anger, clawing at him fiercely and he saw her under him, writhing, gasping, and moaning.

No, Scarlett was not easy to forget. Rhett wasn't sure it was possible, to be honest. She was one hell of a woman. He buried his face in his hands and poured himself another shot of whiskey, too busy drowning in Scarlett to care that it was not a fine brand. It burned as it traveled to the pit of his belly and he welcomed the slight pain.

Then, a knock on the door.

He had a letter.

---

The letter was not long, but not short, not curt, but not poetic with love, it was ultimately Scarlett. It was choppy, but filled with meaningful sentiments.

_Dear Rhett,_

_It is with conflicted emotions and a puzzled demeanor that I write to inform you that we now have custody of Beau Wilkes. Ashley has left, traveling off with foolish notions of the days of his youth and has left me with his child. Beau, I mean._

_I received the legal papers only a day ago, but I know this letter will be slow in traveling to you, as I am ashamed to admit, I do not know who your solicitor is. I sent it first to Henry Hamilton, who sent it to your solicitor's law firm, then to him, then to you. It will probably take weeks to arrive._

_I'm ashamed to say that I rather resent Ashley for dropping his son into my lap. Please do not misunderstand that I think Beau a burden, for I love my nephew, I do, but Ashley is just so pathetic!_

_I will stay at Tara long enough to help with the birth my newest niece, Grace Anne or nephew William Gerald. I've been named godmother, once again. If something ever happens to Suellen and Will I could open a child labor workshop! God's nightgown that would be seven children to feed and clothe! _

_We shall leave to Savannah straight away after the christening. We'll be there visiting Grandfather Robillard, Aunt Pauline and Eulalie, and Careen for a while, perhaps a month or so._

_I don't want to go back to the home on Peachtree, it's too raw. I'm sure you understand. Perhaps you could visit us, I'll undoubtedly see your Mother, she is very close with Eulalie and Pauline, so I shall give her your regrets that you could not travel with us. _

_I'm to be in Charleston in a month._

_Yours Completely,  
__Scarlett Butler_

Rhett held the letter and let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. She was trying so hard! Her letter even sounded more mature. Maybe he should go to her…No! His mind screamed at him, _she ensnared you once, trapped you, she can do it again!_But Rhett found that just this once, it was hard to listen to his head's voice when his heart was constricting with something not quite pain and yelling yes just as loud.

He wondered how Ella and Wade were, had she shunted them aside as normal? Had she put on a front for him? Did she even care about them? She was a horrible mother, dreadful. He was sure that she had merely played a part for him, pretending to be a caring mother…yes, that was it. He scowled unpleasantly, all talk of loving her gone at once. She was probably falling all over herself to take care of Beau, her _precious_ Ashley's son. There would probably be even talk of marriage soon. She would be asking him for the divorce any day.

Yes, he would go to her. And then, all hell would break lose. She would beg him for a divorce once he was done with her, he wouldn't be the one burnt this time. He smiled and his black eyes glinted cruelly. He knocked back another shot and then got up, removing his dressing gown. Under it he was shirtless, a pair of slacks the only thing he wore. He examined himself in the reflection and decided he was too pale.

Then he cocked his head and laughed uproariously at his obsession with his appearance. But he had to look his best for Scarlett, he mockingly thought.

Needless to say, the guests on the floor below him were quite frightened when the moody man above them broke out into loud laughter.

---

She had arrived at her Aunt's small home. It was a cozy little thing, two stories, cheery white brick with wide evergreen shutters and a door of the same color. The rooftop slanted into a very narrow peak on one side of the horse and some of the shingling looked rather worn, but it looked nice enough so she moved on closer, walking towards the house to knock on the front door. Only to see that her Aunt's were flying out to greet her. She looked at them as they walked quickly to the sidewalk where she stood.

Pauline, the eldest, was a tall thin woman. Her dark brown hair was pulled back tightly in matronly chignon and her deep lilac cotton dress draped her willowy figure quite appropriately, accentuating her small waist and slender legs. Eulalie was shorter, a stout woman. She had her golden brown hair pulled up loosely to the crown of her head, giving her a couple of inches of height. Her plump figure was clothed in a grayish periwinkle dress and gave her a pleasant appearance.

Both of the women rushed to embrace her and she did so, not stiffly, but not exactly warmly. The only contact she'd had with them was letter, a monthly allowance, and words that she was ruining the Robillard name. She hadn't seen them since Careen's christening. She'd only been three then. They ushered her and the children inside the house, instructing the hansom to bring their bags into the home.

It was a nicely decorated home, simple, but comfortable. She was forcibly sat down between the children and sat, her back ram-rod straight as Beau and Ella slumped against her, sharing an amused glance with Wade. In a way, Wade was her favorite child, now that Bonnie was gone. She'd never been a very good mother to Wade, she knew, but she did everything she could to provide for him. She remembered with horror the day that Tara's kitchen had gone on fire, and saw her little son's body, staring blankly ahead. She remembered waking up and hugging him, kissing him, pressing him closer to her body. She also remembered that it was no time for affection and to her surprise, she had rather resented the fact that Wade did not change in his opinion of her, still scared and pale when in her presence. But now was not the time for such memories, and she threw herself forcibly back into the conversation, one hand absentmindedly stroking her son's hand.

The conversation had dragged on forever and Scarlett was ready to retire. She thanked her stars that the children appeared so tired from the traveling that she could use their fatigue to escape her aunts' verbal death trap. She had been led up the stairs, chattering with false gaiety all the while, leading the children up with hands on their smaller backs. They wearily trudged on and Ella whined so much that her mother would not carry her that Scarlett felt her head might explode and desperately wished for a drink. She grudgingly picked the small girl up and felt most of her anger evaporate as two small arms wound their way around her neck and a small sigh blew in her ears, gently, a sweet caress that Scarlett barely felt. Her eyes softened and she let her shoulders relax as she walked behind her aunts making careless small talk and nodding benevolently.

When she shut the door she shared an amused glance with her eldest child. He looked glad to be free of his aunts as well. She took a moment to glance around the room. It was a large spacious room, a sitting room turned into a make-shift playroom and nursery. Colorful blankets were draped across velvet armchairs and two cots, comfortable and piled high with quilts and duvets were laid out.

She clucked her tongue in disapproval that was notunfounded. Ella could not sleep with a boy who was not her blood brother, however legal it was on paper. She instructed her daughter to bring her things into her room. It looked like she would have to share with the small girl. When she had assisted them all in unpacking there was only an hour before dinner. She let the children play quietly with the blocks and books in the sitting room as she unfolded her dresses and made a move to hang them up.

A light green satin one for something dressy, with an evergreen trim and bodice, lighter green lace on the barely there sleeves made a pretty picture and Scarlett delicately hung it in the wardrobe. Next, three gowns of the same light linens, all the same fashion, one in a lovely rosebud pink, a midnight blue, and a cheery yellow. Then there were the four other day dresses, all in floral prints of happy oranges, spring greens, sky blues, and deep reds. Another dinner gown, this time a deep eggplant color with violet lace detail and a satin underskirt, peeking through when sections of the dress where pulled up by tiny lace bows. A proper gray dress for church, followed by another one in a deeper charcoal shade was then hung.

She looked at her valise and saw, with despair that more dresses followed. She quickly hung them up without bothering to check and stowed her underclothes, hoop skirts, bustles, nightgowns all alike in the bureau. She dreaded repeating the process for all three of the children and called them from their playing to help her hang their clothes up.

When she was finished it was time for dinner and she quickly washed up, hastily instructing the children to do so as well. The washroom was crowded with four occupants and Scarlett desperately wished herself some where quieter but kept a placid and patient expression as she ushered the two boys and one girl down the stairs for supper.

---

Her visit with her aunts was coming to an end and she was due then to stay elsewhere. She was in that dilemma, pondering her choices when her aunt's bustled in, their skirts sweeping about them as they ranted and raved about how well behaved their grandniece and grandnephew were.

Eulalie was waving a letter about in her squat fist, and Scarlett waited for several minutes to calm the woman before softly enquiring about the contents. Her aunt only excitedly handed it over to her. She perused it with her eyes quickly.

_My dearest daughter-in-law,_

_I hope you do not think me too forward in writing you without warning, but your Aunts are some of my dearest friends and I have learned that you and your children are staying with them._

_I would like to extend an invitation for you to stay with me for as long as you wish, I have not heard from you in a long time and would very much like to meet your children again. _

_Please consider this request, if you would like, please send an affirmative response and I shall prepare rooms for you as soon as you wish._

_I do hope to get to know you very much, Scarlett. _

_Yours truly,  
__Eleanor Butler_

Scarlett muttered a prayer to the heavens and put on a genuine smile.

"Why Aunt Eulalie, Aunt Pauline, I do declare that I would just love to visit Charleston! My goodness, I haven't seen Mrs. Butler in a long time! I shall just be upstairs writing her a reply, then you'll be kindly enough to mail it, won't you, darling aunts of mine?" When she made it upstairs she closed the door and did a celebratory jig with her eyes closed against the door. The giggles of the playing children met her ears and she glared at them good-naturedly.

"Goodness, Mother, you're being very silly!"

She only nodded. "You're very right, sweetie! After this, I'm going to take us all shopping!"

She was in a very good mood, after all.

---

Two frocks later, for both Ella and Scarlett it was time to shop for the boys. Both received new play outfits but Scarlett bought each of the children a toy as well. Stopping before the toy shop, Ella had squealed loudly and Wade had tugged her hand impatiently. After half an hour of perusal she piled her purchases on the counter and prepared to pay for them. A toy saber for each boy, decorated in outlandish colors, one all blue, one all red, a new doll for Ella, one with a soft body and face, beautiful brown locks and bright green eyes.

All throughout the trip Scarlett suppressed unladylike yawns and speculated on her recent fatigue.

---

It wasn't until she started throwing up her supper two days later that she thought she should be worried.


	5. A Sickness Spread

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---

Scarlett's trip had to be postponed for another week as she took ill one night after supper. She had waved off her Aunts' concerns and passed it off as fatigue and a bad seafood dish for lunch.

She had retired up for the night and had finished tucking them into bed, frowning at Wade's forehead, which seemed warmer then usual.

She finished changing and shrugged it off. He had probably overtired himself playing. She lay on her back for half an hour trying to quell her body's uneasiness and sleep when she felt it. Her stomach contracted as her head reeled, the bitter acrid taste of bile surged forth in her throat and she quickly retched in a nearby vase. She moaned as her abdomen cramped in agonizing contractions.

---

She knelt there for a while, quietly purging her body of the contents in her stomach into the washbasin in the makeshift bathroom for at least an hour, miserably holding her hair back wishing fervently for a ribbon. She lay on the cool hardwood floor, her cheek against the comfortingly chilly surface when she heard a small voice speak up.

"Mother, I don't feel very good."

Scarlett groaned and picked herself off the floor, spitting twice to rid herself of the taste.

Wade was leaning against the doorway looking very wan. His eyes were glazed over and he held his small arms close to himself. He coughed and Scarlett watched in a muted sort of observation as he shuddered and she knew he was going to be sick very soon. She was beside him in an instant, leading him back to bed, a fresh basin in her hands. Really, Eulalie had stocked the bathroom quite well.

She tucked him into the bed, propping his pillows so that he was sitting upright, helping suppress his nausea. She patted his cheek and put the basin in his lap before standing up, feeling the need to vomit again but swallowing hard.

She quickly woke Beau and told him to go into the other room with Ella, not wanting him to catch the stomach illness that she and Wade had. He nodded blearily, rubbing his eyes as he dragged a spare blanket behind him.

The rest on the night went slowly as she stayed up with Wade, both being sick numerous times as she held his feverish body close to her own, stroking his sweat-soaked hair, and changing his pajamas when they got too damp.

His dull brown eyes were glassy in fever, not a dangerously high one, but she told herself to watch it, and call for a doctor if it worsened. She finally had lulled him to sleep and felt it fast approach when the first lights had peeked through the thick velvet curtains. She groaned softly and flung an arm over her face in a dramatic aid to keep out the sun.

When she had come down to breakfast she had informed her aunts that Ella and Beau needed to stay downstairs, she was ill, and so was Wade.

They had hastily nodded; whipping out large and lacy handkerchiefs over their mouth and waving them in the air as if to ward off her sickness before it spread to them as well. Scarlett felt much better, her nausea having quieted for a while. It threatened to make a return when she smelt breakfast but she breathed in deeply through her mouth, deep gulps of air and it had helped ease her churning stomach.

Wade, however, was still getting sick every hour and was falling into uneasy bouts of sleep before waking and getting sick again. He whimpered as Scarlett rubbed his back soothingly, closing her eyes. She stayed with him all day, entertaining him by telling him stories. It was some time around late afternoon that he asked a question that sent Scarlett reeling. She was lying in bed with her son, dressed in a chemise and dressing gown only, free of her corset and heavy dresses and he was in thin cotton pajamas, a cloth on his forehead when he said it.

"What was my daddy like?" Scarlett's head shot up and she froze, tensing her muscles suddenly. She thought frantically on how to answer him. She had known that one day he would ask, he hinted at his father, Charles in every situation possible.

"Mother?"

She looked at him in the eyes. They were Charles' eyes. Not for the first time she felt a pang of sorrow deep within her. She could not bring herself to regret her actions but praised the Lord that Charles had died when he did, before she ruined his life.

"Wade baby, I should have told you about Charles a long time ago. I'm very sorry that I didn't. I met your father when I was young, thirteen to be exact. We were always friends, I liked to rough around with the boys, instead of sewing and being delicate. Time went on and he went away for a while." She took a deep breath. She wasn't lying, but she wasn't telling the whole truth either. "When I was sixteen the War started. We were having a party, a barbeque, actually. It was at Twelve Oaks, Uncle Ashley's old plantation." She closed her eyes, imaging the glorious ruin of one of her childhood romping grounds. "I remember the boys rushing around, so excited about the War! Their heads were filled with glory and honor, they didn't know what war truly was then." She murmured. "None of us did."

Wade seemed to sense her discomfort, such a bright boy he was becoming, and leaned into her more.

"Your father proposed to me there, it was quite sentimental, I told him that we should be married as quickly as possible." She took a shuddering breath. "He was very kind to me, always so thoughtful! He went away to war and I discovered I was going to have a baby."

Wade asked her another question. "Did my daddy know about me?"

Scarlett shook her head. "I don't know baby, I sent him a letter, but I don't know if it got to him. He fought very bravely, but got very sick. He died fighting for the South, Wade, and you should be very proud to have him as a daddy."

Wade nodded, his eyes heavy. He was soon asleep and Scarlett removed him from her embrace, stretching wearily. She called for a bath then and prepared for a long soak.

---

It seemed fate was not on her side then, for Eulalie came rushing up the stairs calling her name. She hustled out, clad only in a dressing gown and chemise, her hair wild about her face. She cinched the gown tightly around her waist and looked at her flustered aunt.

"Well, what's the matter?"

Her aunt flushed and panted. "Ella's gotten sick all over the floor!" She wailed.

Scarlett felt a deep pang of annoyance. What in God's name was the matter with them? She heard her daughter then, coughing violently. She went down the stairs quickly, keeping mind not to jostle her sensitive stomach too much. She took a deep breath and walked into the parlor. What she saw astounded her. Ella was kneeling on the floor, retching piteously. She saw red when she saw Pauline backed away, moaning about the floor. Her aunt was ringing her hands, telling the girl to stop it.

Scarlett came further in then, fuming.

Ella looked up and saw her mother and started to reach for her. Her damp red hair was matted with vomit and Scarlett felt the bitter tang hit the back of her throat and tried to take deep breaths within her mouth.

"Mama!"

She moved over to her daughter then, picking her up easily, flinching when the girl curled up in her embrace, leaving her bile-scented hair to tickle at Scarlett's nostrils.

She moved up the stairs slowly and began nursing her daughter back to health.

---

After the girl had fallen back asleep, she made her way to the sitting room, where her Aunts would undoubtedly be.

"What's the matter with you?" She demanded.

They looked up from their embroidery. "Whatever do you mean, Scarlett?"

She looked down on them furiously, hands on her hips. "You know what I mean! Why were you so cold to my daughter today?"

They wrinkled their nose and brows, seemingly as one. Eulalie opened her mouth, but Pauline spoke first. "Really, niece, we expected better! She was getting the carpets soiled! Could she not have held it for a chamber pot?"

Scarlett seemed to grow in height as Eulalie continued on her sister's tangent, neither noticing their niece's growing fury.

"Oh, quite right, sister mine! I cannot imagine where she learned her dreadful manners!"

Scarlett's voice almost broke as she spoke in a tone that though quiet, held a mass of rage. "_My _little girl was downstairs throwing up the contents of her stomach because _your_ chef did not cook something properly! She is _six_ years old! She has impeccable manners! She gets sick! I would not expect the two of _you_ to understand, as you've never had children, however, if you could have shown an _ounce _of caring towards her feelings…"

"Now see here! Such disrespect, in our own home!" They interrupted in tandem, each expressing their own sentiments at the same time.

"No! You see here! You forget that it was _my_ money that kept you living this comfortable! That can change, my _dear_ aunts! If you don't apologize to my child by tomorrow, I won't send you another _cent_. Understood?"

They nodded, terrified.

---

Suffice to say, Ella was rewarded by an apology and a new dress for her favorite doll that morning.

---

It had been three days before the children had recovered, Beau taking ill that evening, and three days that Scarlett could have done without. Her own sickness had vanished on the eve that Beau had taken sick, but she felt ill still. Her fatigue was clearly written on her wan face and slow movements.

They were finally packed and ready to travel to Charleston.

And Scarlett could not have been gladder.

---

The doorbell was ringing loudly and Eleanor Butler called for her butler to open it, after all, it was quite rude to keep a guest waiting! She was descending the stairs gracefully, keeping a smooth white hand, gloved in a pure white silk glove on the wooden banister the entire time. She enquired softly to who was calling, but received her answer when a roguish grin and swarthy man entered the front hall.

"Rhett! You've come home!"

She swept her son into a large hug and immediately made arrangements for his rooms.

---

Later that same day, Scarlett and the three children wearily made their way out of the train station, calling on a carriage that would take them to,"The Butler place." She knew that taking a carriage was not good etiquette but with three children and luggage, she knew no one would look down on her. Even as the carriage jostled unpleasantly, she felt herself nodding off, only to be awoken by an unpleasant bump along the road.

Ella sat on her lap, her fingers in her mouth as she leaned her small frame against her mother's more solid, but petite body. Wade and Beau were playing a game with their hands, some kind of wrestling with their fingers and she told them to be careful and not to hurt each other. Scarlett tipped her head back, longing to remove her bonnet and Ella's which scratched at the top of her bosom, exposed modestly by a plain green muslin dress, decked in accents of apple and sage.

Ella looked cheerful in her pink frock with little pink roses and green floral pattern. Her dress fell in cute ruffles to her knees and her little white stockings and white shoes, polished so that scuffs were hidden kicked at the bottom of her seat in a restless pattern. The boys were dressed in suits of a similar cut. Wade was wearing a dark brown suit, with short pants and a crème colored shirt, while Beau was wearing a crisp gray suit with a stark white colored shirt. It matched both of their eyes and Scarlett eyed them over. She told them to smooth their hair and to mind their manners when they arrived at their grandmother's.

Beau didn't even bat an eye at the title she applied to all three children and to her astonishment asked her what their grandmother was like. She stammered a bit and mumbled out something encouraging, letting her back hit the seat loudly. She didn't have a problem with Beau calling her family his, now that it was legally, but Eleanor Butler wasn't even really Ella or Wade's grandmother, would she have something to say about it?

She nervously wringed her hands and sat Ella beside her, instead of on top of her. The girl slumped against her, still tired from her recent illness. Beau and Wade had recovered marvelously, though. She absentmindedly twirled a bit of her hair around her finger, wincing when she tugged too hard. She was to stay with her mother-in-law for over a month, at least. The woman seemed kind, but Scarlett had met her only once, on the day that was Bonnie's funeral. She remembered standing in the rain, dripping wet, uncovered by Rhett's umbrella as he moved further away from her.

It wasn't until a kindly woman with silver hair took her under her arm and covered her with a parasol that she let herself cry, great shuddering gasps onto her mother-in-law's shoulders. The woman had a train to catch and Scarlett had been tucked into bed by Eleanor, and she had uttered a ghost-like thanks after the woman's retreating back.

It had been not long ago, yet seemed like a lifetime.

The hansom slowed to a bumpy start and her daughter stirred from her position against her mother and moaned groggily. Scarlett ushered the boys out, paid the hansom and told him to wait for the servants to carry the bags, and had gotten out herself, calmly instructing Ella to walk out of the carriage. The titian haired seven year old stumbled along the path until Scarlett, with a tinge of annoyance scooped the child up into her arms, sighing as the legs went around her waist and the arms around her neck. _Really, Ella, though quite pretty and often clever, was such a needy child at times!_

She walked briskly to the front door and putting a hand on Beau's shoulder, told Wade to use the knocker to let the resident of the home know that they had arrived. The door did not open for several minutes until Scarlett heard a fumbling of the knob and a regal looking butler opened the door.

In a clipped tone he escorted her inside to a small foyer that had a winding set of wooden stairs, carpeted in a flowing crème colored rug. She peered around the comfortably furnished home and listened half-heartedly as the butler, Terrence, ordered servants to bring in her valises and set them up in her rooms.

He walked stiffly to her side and tapped her shoulder to get her attention.

"Miss Eleanor will be with you in a minute."

A soft voice rang out "No need, Terrence, I'm already here."

Scarlett looked up to see Eleanor Butler descending the stairs gracefully, her navy skirts swirling about her heels appealingly. Her silver hair was pulled back in a matronly chignon and Scarlett caught a whiff of a lemon-like smell about her and inhaled deeply.

"Welcome, Scarlett." The woman approached her, finally reaching the bottom of the stairs. She moved forward to embrace her daughter-in-law, and Scarlett, interpreting her intentions correctly, set her daughter down and nudged her towards her brother.

Two strong arms surrounded her and she tensed before relaxing into the embrace. "Hello, Mrs. Butler."

She pulled back, her hands gripping Scarlett's elbows. "You can call me Mother" However, it seemed that Eleanor could read Scarlett very easily as the woman she held stiffened and tried to back away, a sudden sadness overcoming her expression. "Perhaps, it'd be easier to call me Miss Eleanor, then, hmm?"

Scarlett nodded in stark relief.

"Now, why don't you introduce me to these three very well-behaved youngsters?"

Scarlett nodded and found herself walking towards the children, guiding them closer to her mother-in-law.

"This is my eldest, Wade Hampton, my daughter, Ella Lorena, and my adopted son, Beauregard Wilkes."

Eleanor looked at her in surprise but smothered it gracefully, shaking the boys' hands and offering a tentative embrace to her daughter who moved forward shyly, concealing a wide yawn with her hand. Eleanor almost clapped in delight, taking in her granddaughter's appeal. Scarlett heard clipped footsteps behind her and took no immediate notice of them until Wade turned around, delighted.

"Uncle Rhett!"

Scarlett turned around, turning ghostly pallid. Her hand went to her throat and Rhett moved forward, concerned before she crumpled into his arms, unconscious.

---

Rhett had entered the hall, hearing voices that sounded familiar, when he did, he was not very surprised to see his wife and three children talking to his mother. When Wade had acknowledged his presence he had strode right up to the boy.

Scarlett had turned slowly and Rhett took in her appearance. She was very thin and fragile looking and her dress cleverly hid her shrinking waist. Her skin was very wan looking and her eyes, as bright as ever, sparkled feverishly. There were dark shadows under her eyes, smeared like heavy kohl, and her mouth was thin and white.

He stepped forward; shocked at her recent appearance before she swayed and fell limply into his arms, looking like a delicate rag-doll.

---

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	6. A Marriage Matured

**A/N: Hello all, sorry it's been so long, but updates are and will be erratic. I'm working on another fic right now, so I just have to deal!**

**Hope you like this!**

**And thanks to all the wonderful people who read and review, you are all so awesome!**

---

His face was grim, his hands shook underneath the delicate weight of her body, but his footsteps were steady as he made his way up to his prepared room. He could dimly hear his mother reassuring the three children that their mother was all right and not to worry, she was just over tired. His mind whirled faster as he noticed that she was stirring slightly, her eyes agitated under their pale lids.

The stairs seemed to be torturously long in their quantity and it felt like hours as he made his way quickly to the bed, kicking the door open more widely to accommodate the woman in his arms who started minimally at the noise. With a rustle of her skirts, the clinking of his cufflinks against the buttons of her dress, and a soft exhale, Rhett set his wife onto the plush divan of the bed he was to sleep on that night. He leaned over her, slapping at her wrists, patting her cheeks to rouse her.

Coal black eyes peered down concernedly as she moaned and jostled upright. Her green eyes, bloodshot as they were, became magnificent as they fixed themselves on his face, questions in her eyes.

"Rhett?" Her voice was weak and Rhett could have done nothing else but grasp her hands between his own in reassurance that she was awake. "Rhett?" she questioned again, sounding all the world like a confused little girl.

He stepped back then, not too far, lest this moment of civility expire.

"What happened Rhett?" Her voice was gaining strength as she pushed herself off of her elbows and leaned back into the headboard.

His voice was void of emotion as he answered with a bemused sort of smile, "You fainted at the sight of me, Scarlett."

She colored to match her name and opened her mouth to protest. "I certainly did _not _faint, Rhett Butler!"

"Oh yes, Scarlett, you fainted right into my arms." He shook his head as if he was trying to figure something out. His eyebrows rose, arching curiously. "Did you miss me that much, wife of mine?"

Her fists clenched in the duvet and her nails dug into the soft skin of her palms. Her cheeks felt hot with embarrassment and her eyes narrowed into cat-like slits. "Fiddle-de-dee, Rhett, don't flatter yourself," she added seconds later, almost as an afterthought, "and I did _not_ faint."

Her indignation was a perfect picture and he broke into peals of laughter as she colored further.

"If you're just going to stand there and laugh at me," she said, swinging her legs the side of the bed, smoothing out her skirts, punctuating each word with a snarl, curl of her lip, or glint of her eyes, "then I'll go down to see to the children, and", she was cut off then because as she stood, white light danced across her vision and her knees trembled, threatening to give way beneath her. She pitched forward, head throbbing, arms scrambling for something to hold onto, but she only found Rhett.

His voice was low, "Careful, Scarlett." Her hands were at his lapels, but as his arms encircled her waist, they drifted onwards to close around his neck. She felt her eyelashes kiss at her cheekbones as she stared up at him, her chin pointing upwards, tilting her head back to better see him. Her breathing softened, but was irregular as her skin seemed to feel hot beneath his fingers and she itched to do something, _anything_ to break the awkward tension. Her fingertips grazed lightly underneath his hairline and he shuddered, moving his proud jaw line closer to her own. Her tongue darted out to wet her coloring lips and his body was closer then before, a soft groan escaping his lips while he watched intently as her pink tongue darted out of her voluptuous lips.

The lines about his cruel mouth and forehead smoothed out as one of her hands hesitantly moved to cup his cheek, her thumb smoothing a stray lock of hair back behind his ear. Her mouth unconsciously parted as his did the same and he leaned in as she felt her legs would give way. She was not surprised that he was required to hold her up as he pressed his mouth to hers with bruising force. Her knees surrendered as they buckled and his strong arms kept her pressed to him. Their tongues dueled for dominance as they mouths clashed together again and again, breaking apart for air before locking again.

"Rhett!" The worried cry of Eleanor Butler interrupted their passionate kiss and her heels could be heard clicking upon the stairs just before the hall which lead to the door. "Rhett, is Scarlett awake? Is she all right?"

Her eyes locked with his and they widened, horrified. Quicker then she thought, he picked her up in his arms and placed her back on the bed. At the quick movement the agony in her skull persisted and she moaned in discomfort, grasping at her head.

It was then that Eleanor Butler, panting with the effort of sprinting up the stairs with three children in tow arrived at the door.

"Mother!" Ella practically screamed as Scarlett winced in protest at the loudness of the sound. Still, she dutifully opened her arms as the six-year-old raced and charged for the bed, leaping into her mother's embrace. "I was so scared! You just fainted, Mother!"

Scarlett's eyes closed as she softly stroked her daughter's hair, silently reassuring her that she was all right. She opened them when she felt a hand on her shoulder and her eyes met those of her eldest child. Wade's normally carefree eyes were heavy with worry.

"Are you all right, Mother?" He sounded very grown up as he continued, "are you ill again, should we call a doctor?"

It seemed Rhett had tuned out, looking at the blonde boy standing to the side but his head snapped back at Wade's words. "Ill, _again_, Scarlett? When were you ill? For that matter, when are you _ever_ ill?"

She turned and looked at him for a moment before looking at Beau who looked very out of place and lost.

"The children and I caught a bit of the stomach flu in Savannah, Rhett, nothing to worry about!" Her words were carefree in their tone, but her eyes had lines about them as she tried not to concentrate on her headache. "Come here, Beau, please…" She reached out one arm and smoothed out his brow, "don't worry, I'm fine."

He merely whimpered and hugged her arm closer.

"Scarlett, _you_ were ill? My darling wife, you _never_ take sick!" Rhett seemed genuinely humored by the prospect of her getting ill and it grated upon her nerves as she snapped back at him.

"And _you_ should have remembered that my health has been _codswallop_ since I fell down the stairs and" her words were heavy with misery, "and lost our baby…"

He fell silent and his expression was grieved as they both remembered the child that they lost when he returned from England with Bonnie.

As if she were in tune with her son and daughter-in-law's thoughts, Rhett's mother ushered the children out of the room so that they could have a private conversation. Her eyes wished for the best as she gently closed the door.

"Scarlett…" he reached out to her, "I'm sorry, I…" he frantically searched for the words, coming up short, "I'm sorry."

"Well," she started, but her words sounded strained and forced, "I guess you couldn't have known anyway…" the words that she didn't say hung between them, _you should have known_.

She hastily regained what was left of her composure as she began again. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to come here, Rhett?"

"I didn't think that all my actions needed to be reported to you, Scarlett. Forgive me," and he gave her a little bow, "for not doing so."

Scarlett felt her anger rising as her annoyance at his jaunty sarcasm grew. "If you're going to mock me, just get out!" she felt the urge to throw something at his smug face grow infinitely.

"But Mrs. Butler, this is our room!" His surprise was well feigned but seriousness appeared on his face. "Listen Scarlett, only in this room is our marriage in shambles. Outside of here you are to play the adoring, obeying, loving, and wife that we both know you are not. You will be a _damn_ wonderful, attentive mother to those three children that are not mine, and you will make my mother happy if you have to die trying!"

For a moment anger crossed her face and he watched as complacency took its stead, "Very well, Rhett." He nodded, satisfied and made his way to the door. "There is one role, the greatest of them all that I will not have to pretend…"

"And what is that?" He asked reluctantly, eager to escape the room's tension.

"The loving wife," she said quietly, with conviction. She turned over then, unwilling to see his face and did not let the tears escape her eyes until she heard the soft swing of the door as it opened and closed and the disappearing patter of his footsteps.

---

"I'm glad you're feeling well enough to come out with the children and me today, Scarlett," he said, buttoning his shirt. "It was a shame you missed yesterday's events."

She made a noncommittal noise as she fastened in her tiny pearl earbobs. She would have worn her larger ones but Rhett laughed and told her that they overwhelmed her face. Well, she thought, they were a _bit_ gaudy, besides; Rhett had always known what looked best on a woman, and best on Scarlett.

He continued to make conversation as his tie was tucked under a smart gray vest, buttoning carefully.

"Well, you're looking mighty pretty today, my pet."

She started suddenly, unnoticeable to Rhett who was looking at his hands. Had he just called her _his_ pet? The possession was back in his endearing words. What could that possibly mean? Her mind was whirling a mile a minute before she accepted the compliment.

"Thank you, Rhett…you look nice as well."

He chuckled as he slipped on his charcoal overcoat.

"Don't shower me in praise, Scarlett, my humble heart," he paused to place a tanned hand over his heart, "just couldn't take much more."

She smiled appreciatively. When he wasn't teasing, Rhett had a wonderful sense of humor. "You _do_ look handsome, Rhett."

He smiled down at his hands and he looked up at her, genuine civility and humor in his expression. "Why thank you, Scarlett!" Scarlett smiled in a hesitant return and turned to the mirror, smoothing back her unruly hair. A more rested visage greeted her then days before. She was dressed in a fashionable style, pantalets had returned to the height of fashion, over that came her shimmy, then the whalebone corset, pulled tighter then ever, then just two petticoats, then the hoop skirt, and finally her dress. It was a handsome forest green, made of linen, which showed off her small waist and shapely hips, and of course, to Rhett's delight, her well-endowed chest as well.

A knock at the door was heard and Scarlett called out, "Come in!"

It was Ella looking very pretty in a yellow frock that reached just below her knees, pale yellow stockings with pretty pink ribbons and roses on the bodice of her dress. Her hair was in utter disarray, though, and Scarlett clucked her tongue, knowing it needed dressing.

"Mother," she practically wailed, "please help me with my hair, it will not sit right!" Every other word was punctuated with a sniffle and she rebelliously rubbed her hand under her nose. Scarlett sat up, her hoop skirt weighing about her heavily as she guided her daughter to wear she had been seated previously, in front of the vanity.

"Hush, Ella. I will dress your hair."

Rhett marveled at the change in Scarlett, for it had to be a change. A six year old girl could not be tricked into loving her mother and bribed into a scheme like the one Rhett thought Scarlett had dreamt up. He watched as they made small conversation, sometimes including him as Scarlett expertly handled Ella's hair. When she was done, Ella looked back at her mother, her mouth open in a large grin, spilling out gratitude and praise. She hurled herself from the seat and hugged her mother before darting out of the room, not minding Scarlett's voice calling after her.

"Don't _run_ in the house, Ella-darling!"

---

The markets of Charleston were so alive that Scarlett's veins hummed in eagerness to mingle within them. Women in matronly frocks linked arms with their closest friends and twirled parasols gaily, men in light suits grinned at their wives and played with their children, women looking haggard pushed prams with newborn babies in them and smiled proudly at people who cooed and awed over their child, children laughed with excitement and pointed out new toys, it was full of activity.

Stalls that sold beautiful fruits of color, sunset peaches, grass-colored apples, daffodil-hued bananas, berries of myriad shades, shapes and sizes, earthy vegetables of wondrous greens, yellows, browns, and purples, fish of all assortments, eggs, toys, and to her surprise, clothes littered among the market place, the square of city life.

Rhett's lips brushed her ear, "I told you it was spectacular."

She smiled up at him and to others, she appeared an adoring wife, "It truly is!" Her arm was linked with Rhett's and her other was occupied with Ella's. The children looked about in awe and pointed out things that they obviously wanted.

Rhett spotted something in the distance and he untangled her arm from his, swinging to his left to pick up Ella and lift her to his shoulders.

"Look at that, Ella, can you see the Bay?"

She clapped excitedly and onlookers smiled up at her. "I do! Oh, can we visit?"

He looked thoughtful as the two boys glanced up at him, "As soon as it warms up. We can go sailing and make a day of it!"

Wade glanced back at his mother as she smiled at his Uncle Rhett, a little wistfully. He tucked her arm in his and watched as Beau struggled to do the same, his height being less then Wade's.

"Well look at this Ella, I've got two handsome young men to escort me, and you've only got your fuddy-duddy Uncle Rhett!"

Ella stuck her tongue out as Rhett pulled her down from her perch atop his broad shoulders. "That's just Wade and Beau, Mother!"

"Like I said," she remarked, "two handsome young men!" She teased back looking at Rhett's outraged expression.

"Fuddy-duddy, Scarlett?" She merely laughed in response as her mother-in-law guided Scarlett through the markets, a running commentary that was sharply memorized for the purpose of future visits and efficiency.

The results of the trip were not hazardous to Rhett's bank account. Eleanor had restocked her pantry; Scarlett had bought a petticoat and some suitable walking shoes. Wade had come away with a brand new set of sketch pencils in all sorts of colors, Beau had chosen a puzzle that Scarlett knew would capture his attention for hours, and Ella had received a new frock for her favorite doll. All in all, it was a pleasant endeavor.

---

"And so, the princess and the prince rode away on a splendid white horse, escaping the cruel witch's magic spell, were married, and lived happily ever after," Scarlett finished.

Ella smiled as she thanked her mother for the story.

"Goodnight Mother," she murmured, shifting in an effort to get more comfortable, a sleepy expression across her face. Scarlett kissed her daughter's brow and bent further over, her voluminous skirts rustling beneath her at the movement.

"Goodnight, Ella. I love you."

"Love you too, Mother," was the tired reply.

---

Beau and Wade were still awake as she went in to say goodnight, which didn't surprise her much. The two of them were as thick as thieves and good friends, despite the age difference. Their pajama clad forms looked up guiltily when she entered and she pretended to look stern.

"Beauregard! Wade Hampton! Get in your beds, this instant, or I'll have to wallop your behinds!" They giggled in response and hopped underneath their covers, separately, of course. As they turned over and became more comfortable, she dimmed the lamps making the room darken dramatically. She kissed each boy goodnight and told them she loved them, but as she turned to exit the room and dim the lamp completely, she thought she saw something move away from the door, but shook her head. The only one up at this hour would be Rhett and he had been asleep an hour ago, tired from accounting something she hadn't been interested in.

---

As she lay in bed that night, she reflected on the relationship between the man who was currently by her side. It seemed they were on a truce, a wavering one. It seemed to be going well, this play-acting that they were a happy couple for Miss Eleanor's benefit.

Of course, for Scarlett, she wasn't pretending to be the loving wife, in all reality, she yearned for that role as a permanent one. Being so close to Rhett, she thought, as his unique scent hit her nose, but being so far, was the closest to both Heaven and Hell as she could have possibly come on Earth. She rolled over and tentatively faced him, on her side, her emerald eyes locking on his sleeping frame. One hand propped up her head as she drank in the sight of him. She fell asleep soon after, a deep, dreamless sleep, and thus, did not notice when her husband's eyes snapped open, wide, alert, and when said husband's arms enclosed around her slight form, bringing her close to his body and falling asleep minutes later.

---

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	7. A Nap Needed

Disclaimer: I do not own Gone With the Wind in any shape or form, nor do I make any monetary gain from this story!

A/N: Hello all, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you so much for being so patient with me. Your reviews are what got me through this inspiration-less time!

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all of you!

---

It had been raining for three days. Charleston had experienced a sudden downpour of freezing rain, loud thunder and frightening lightning. The windows had frosted over and the streets were icy. All in all, it seemed as if God had placed Charleston under house arrest. The sky was a sickly purple color when lightening struck, but otherwise shifted between depressing hues of gray. The clouds were low, and rain constantly fell to the ground, splattering everything with frost. After almost every thunderclap in the night, Ella would begin to cry with fright and would need someone to usher her back to sleep.

As a result, Scarlett was tired, irritable, and in no mood to be trifled with. She walked around the house like a ghost of her former self. Emotions would rarely cross her face, and none of Rhett's taunts provoked a slight reaction. Dark shadows remained under her eyes, and her face was constantly pale and pinched. Ella's cries kept her up, and she received little to no sleep.

Rhett had been nice to the children, but it was Scarlett who kept them entertained throughout the day. It was Scarlett who drank awful tea with Ella, played pirates with Beau, and read to Wade. It was Scarlett who bathed and dressed the children every night, making sure they ate enough at dinner.

She trudged up the stairs, yawning widely. Her skirts in her hands, she almost stumbled on the top stair and clutched at the railing for a moment. _Only one moment, _she wished for, _just one moment of piece so I can rest_.

"Oh Scarlett, dear?" Eleanor's voice called. Scarlett nearly cried. _What could she possibly want from me?_

Eleanor Butler was a kind woman, but she pried into Scarlett's life more than Scarlett cared for. As Eleanor had never met her daughter-in-law, she naturally had many questions. And a lot of them revolved around her children, unfortunately. Scarlett had been forced to tell the story of her two previous marriages, and the intricacies of Beau's guardianship many-a-time in Charleston.

"Yes, Mrs. Butler?" Scarlett's voice shook with the effort it took to be pleasant. _Oh I just want to sleep for an hour, _she whined inwardly, _where has Rhett been these past weeks?_

"Would you come in here," Eleanor asked politely, "I'd love to catch up with you for a few moments."

"Catch up?" She muttered to herself, "We live in the same house!" Exasperated she continued to talk to herself, "What could there possibly be to catch up on?"

But still, she forced a smile as she rounded the corner into the upstairs parlor. "Of course, Mrs. Butler, I'd simply love to talk with you!"

"Lovely, dear," the woman smiled as she rose up to kiss her daughter-in-law, "I'll ring for tea."

Scarlett dutifully embraced Rhett's mother before sitting down opposite her. Her eyes wandered about the room, lingering on the draperies, the soaked window, and finally the large balcony that was inaccessible because of the rain. When the tea arrived, Scarlett sipped gratefully at hers, glad to be absent of the conversation.

"Scarlett," Mrs. Butler began, "I was wondering," Scarlett raised her cup to her mouth, eager for another sip, "if you'd thought about more children."

The audacity of the question made Scarlett choke on her tea, spitting the liquid back into the cup. Spluttering, she set the saucer down with trembling hands.

"Oh, forgive me!" Mrs. Butler trembled, "that was awfully rude!"

"No," Scarlett gasped, wiping her mouth delicately, "no, no it's fine." She took a deep breath and continued. "I do have three children already, ma'am."

"Yes," Mrs. Butler said easily, "but none of them are Rhett's are they?"

Scarlett felt her smile and pleasant demeanor fade away. Her eyes squared. "You forget Bonnie." Sadness crept into her tone, "and the baby I lost, Mrs. Butler. We would have had two children by now."

Eleanor softened, "I don't forget them, dear. I am only asking because I think that a baby would help bring you and Rhett closer. I know that losing a child is a terrible thing. I know that it has made you and my son drift from each other, Scarlett."

Scarlett smiled in understanding. _So she thinks that a baby would solve everything? _"I understand your concern, Mrs. Butler. But I don't want to tie Rhett down. He needs to roam, I know you understand, and a baby right now…" She smiled wistfully. "I'd love to give Rhett ten babies, but I don't think that's what he needs at the moment."

Eleanor set her saucer down too. "Oh Scarlett," she cried, reaching for her hand, "you would give up the chance for a darling little baby so that Rhett could be happy?"

Scarlett looked Eleanor square in the eye. "All I want," she said quietly, "is for Rhett to be happy."

---

When Scarlett left the upstairs parlor, she headed not for the nursery, as she normally would have, but instead, for her bedroom. The conversation with Rhett's mother had drained her of any remaining strength.

"Prissy," she called, "mind the children, I simply must take a nap."

The girl nodded and rushed to obey her mistress. When Miss Scarlett took that tone, it was best to leave her to her own devices, she knew!

"A baby," she murmured, shedding her gown for a wrapper. "Lord knows I'd give him a hundred babies if it would make him love me again."

She walked to her vanity, and eased herself down. Gazing at herself, she almost shuddered. "Well," she laughed, "no wonder Rhett's been avoiding you! You look like a monster! It's a miracle Ella hasn't screamed when I walked in her door at night…"

She unclipped her earrings, and removed all of her hairpins. Her dark curls fell to her shoulders, and she gratefully massaged her scalp where the pins had been tightly fastened. Rubbing her eyes, she looked more closely. "Hideous," she sighed before rising.

As she pulled down the heavy duvet, she heard the rain begin to fall harder, a sure sign that it wouldn't be letting up anytime soon. _I've got to get out of this house, or I'll simply go mad! If Eleanor comes to be one more time about babies, I might kill her. Doesn't she know how much I want a child?_

"God's nightgown," she mumbled fiercely into her pillow. "I'd hoped that night, when I was sick in Savannah that it was because I was pregnant." She sniffled and fought back tears. "But that next week, I bled anyway…"

_I am pathetic_, she told herself, _and I need sleep. Scarlett O'Hara does not cry because she receives her monthly, right on time. Scarlett O'Hara does not cry at all!_

"Still," she murmured sleepily, "it was disappointing."

---

Rhett exited the study earlier than he had suspected. Finally, he had finished his work and was free to entertain his family! At last he could play with the children, or perhaps, he grinned, with his wife. _But first,_ he thought, _I'd like to change into something more comfortable._

He opened the door quietly, not wanting to alert the children he was free to play with quite yet. They would probably swarm him, they were bored with being cooped up inside for so long. Turning, Rhett shut the door behind him just as silently as it had opened.

"Funny," he said, "I didn't think it would be quite so dark in here." The drapes had been pulled tight and lamps had been dimmed.

At his words, the bed rustled. No, no, that wasn't right. The bed sheets rustled, or rather the woman in the bed sheets made them rustle.

Rhett nodded to himself in understanding. Scarlett was asleep. _Why isn't she playing with the children though? _He asked himself. _She really can't be that apathetic to their boredom._ He walked closer to the bed, about to wake her. Really, she should be with Ella, Ella was terrified of storms.

But upon reaching the bed, he stopped. She had turned to face him, a sparse sheet covering her form.

"When did you get so thin, Scarlett?" He questioned softly, "Why have I not noticed that?" _Thin isn't quite the word, _he thought, _she looks brittle._

He looked at her dark hair, splayed across the pillow in gleaming curls. "You gave Bonnie those curls," he sighed as he stroked the air over one spiral, "those beautiful curls."

Her eyes were closed, but the dark shadows beneath were still visible. _Had she not been sleeping? _Evidently, she had not. He had heard her getting up in the night, but she soon returned, and he merely assumed she was restless. _She looks pale too, _his mind supplied. Rhett looked down at her small form, which managed to take up the entirety of the bed. All of her slight limbs were splayed about and he chuckled in spite of himself.

He looked to the door and back down at his wife. "Rest darling," he whispered, "I'll look after the children."

Rhett changed as quickly as possible before exiting the room with a last glance. _God, she was beautiful_. He had not even made it halfway to the nursery when Ella's little form came flying at him.

"Uncle Rhett," she shrieked happily, "oh, won't you take tea with me?"

He looked down at the little girl with her mother's eyes and smiled. "Why Miss Ella, I would be delighted!"

---

"Mother," Scarlett heard right beside her ear. "Mother," she felt someone shaking her, "it's time to wake up!"

Scarlett groaned and turned over. Giggles met her response and the child on the bed shook her again.

"Mother," Ella whined, "wake up!"

"Alright Ella," Scarlett barked, sitting up, "I'm up!"

Ella couldn't remember the last time her mother had spoken so harshly to her! _Oh no, _she almost cried, _Mother's mad at me!_

"I'm sorry Mother!" Ella said, about to break into tears, "I'm sorry!" Scarlett peered at the girl in her lap. The seven-year old was sniffling furiously and rubbing her eyes, tell-tale signs that Scarlett was in for the waterworks.

"Oh, Ella," she sighed, "I'm not mad, darling. Just a little bit cranky because I've only just been woken up."

Instantly, a smile was back on the girl's face. "Really, Mother?" Ella bounced with excitement. "Good, because we're going to be late for supper if you don't change!"

Scarlett resisted the urge to fall back asleep, as strong as it was. It seemed as if she had just closed her eyes a moment ago! And yet she had slept for five hours! Ella's hand tugged her to her feet and she yawned, stretching.

"Alright, Ella," she said, trying to be cheerful, "pick out what Mother is going to wear to dinner, please."

Ella nearly levitated she looked so excited, instantly rushing to the wardrobe. Moments later she returned, holding a rich eggplant colored frock. Scarlett shook her head, and Ella looked very disappointed. The little girl hung her head, and Scarlett sighed, walking over to the wardrobe.

"No, this one is for something more formal, darling, choose one of these." Scarlett pointed at the supper dresses, a selection of four frocks.

"How about this one," her daughter questioned eagerly, "is this good?"

Scarlett nodded in approval. "Yes, Ella, you did a mighty fine job, why, this is one of my favorites!" She bent and kissed her daughter's nose, and smoothed her hair. "Now shoo, sweetheart, and let your Mother get ready!" Ella nodded and hustled away.

Sighing, Scarlett closed the door behind her daughter. _I'm so sleepy, _she yawned again, _I better not drink anything tonight, or I'll be asleep in the second course!_

---

After dinner, Scarlett had excused herself and the children from the table. _It was time for baths and bedtime_, she said unnecessarily, _and I must change beforehand_. They had waved her off, and Rhett had dutifully kissed her cheek. He didn't notice her soft smile or lingering eyes as he returned to the table. But Eleanor did, and she was going to say something to her son that night!

When they had retired to the downstairs parlor, Rhett had poured himself some brandy, refilling his mother's wine glass at the same time.

"Rhett," his mother called as he poured the drinks, "when are you going to give me another grandchild?"

"Pardon," he managed, hastily he set the decanter down. He had sloshed it at her abrupt question and quickly wiped the mess away.

"You know," she said amusedly, "Scarlett spit out her tea when I asked her that."

He turned white, "You asked Scarlett about another baby?"

"Yes, dear," his mother turned to him, "is there a problem?"

Rhett sat down heavily, handing Eleanor her wine. He decided to be bluntly honest with his mother. "Scarlett would never want another child."

Eleanor looked shocked, putting a hand over her heart, "Rhett!"

He put up a hand for her silence. "She didn't want any of her children when she found out she was pregnant. I wouldn't want to tie her down with another one." Rhett's dark eyes glistened in the firelight. _Another baby? I doubt Scarlett would even let me kiss her cheek again if I said something about another baby._

"Why, Rhett," Eleanor cried, "that's not true. All women love babies!"

"Not Scarlett," Rhett chuckled harshly, "not Scarlett."

"No," his mother insisted on pressing, "you don't know your wife very well then, Rhett."

"Believe me," he gave her a half-smile, "I know her better than I wish to at times, Mother."

"Rhett, oh do be quiet for a moment," Rhett looked shocked; his mother was always so soft-spoken! Of course, she meddled and gossiped, but she was never so brash! "Scarlett told me that she would happily give you another baby, but that she didn't think you'd want to be tied down to her!" Eleanor looked quite worked up, "That's the answer you gave me! It seems neither of you believe the other one even wants to be near them!"

Rhett didn't say anything; he could only nurse his brandy in silence. _Another baby? She would give me another baby, and happily? _

"You must be mistaken, Mother," he managed. "Scarlett, she—"

But Eleanor cut him off, "Rhett, I have never seen a woman so in love with a man as Scarlett is with you. She told me that she would give you _ten_ babies, but that she didn't think you would want one."

_Ten sounds magnificent_, he inwardly smiled, _ten little babies with her smile and my eyes. Or maybe, her eyes and my hair, or maybe, her curls and my smile! _

"Rhett," his mother cried impatiently, "oh, stop being impossible and listen! You've got to make things right with her!"

"Mother," he stood, "I appreciate this, but I beg you, please don't try to interfere, Scarlett and I can handle our marriage."

"Fine," she softened before scowling playfully. "But don't think that I won't keep pestering you for a grandbaby, Rhett!"

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied dryly before kissing her cheek goodnight. "If you would excuse me, I'm going to go help Scarlett with the children."

---

Scarlett smiled as she toweled off Ella and sent her into Prissy's arms. The girl was capable enough, she supposed, when it came to keeping Ella rather happy. But Wade and Beau were out of her hands, when the two were together, as they always were, they rambunctious and disobedient. Yet for Scarlett, they could be docile and obedient.

"Alright Wade, Beau, get in the bath please! The water will get too cold if you do not hurry!"

Both boys eagerly leapt in, almost soaking Scarlett completely. She laughed, wiping a sodden curl from her face and quickly pinned it back. She splashed the back merrily; glad she had changed into a cotton dress and apron from years ago.

"Boys," she said between giggles, "let me wash your faces and then you can play again!"

They laughed as they evaded her attempts with the washcloth. She leaned over further, looking menacing as she came at Wade with the soap.

"Wade Hampton," she mockingly took a stern tone, "let me wash your face right now or you can forget about that bedtime story!" He quickly complied and she moved onto Beau. "You too mister," she wagged a finger in his direction, "don't think you can get out of this!"

As she continued to play with her sons, Rhett watched from the doorway. There was no one watching, he observed, she didn't have to be the loving mother, and yet, she was. _Has she really changed that much? _He nodded to himself. _She has._

Stepping away from the door, he made his way to Ella's room. Bidding the servant-girl goodnight, he ushered Prissy to help Scarlett towel off the boys. Ella giggled as tried to comb her hair into a plait, and laughed outright when he looked at her with furrowed brows.

"Mother has to do it," she informed him, "she does it the best."

"Ella," Scarlett said from the doorway, "why aren't you in your nightgown yet – Oh!" She put a hand over her heart, "you startled me, Rhett!"

He grinned, "My apologies, darling, I'll go see to the boys." With a rogue grin, he left Scarlett puzzled and breathless against the door.

"Mother," Ella's voice snapped her into action, "would you help me?" Her voice was muffled and Scarlett looked over before snorting with laughter. Ella had confused the sleeve with the head-hole.

---

"Are the children asleep?" he asked as she undressed for the night.

She sighed a moment before smiling tiredly at him, "Yes, at last." For a moment, she struggled with the buttons of her dress, grunting with frustration. Finally, she turned to him, and he quickly stifled his amusement. "Rhett, would you help me with this?"

He was at her side in a moment, his fingers in the button immediately. Rhett stood directly behind her, his hand intimately on her waist. His breath was hot in her ear as he answered, "My pleasure." He drew out the word, his lips barely brushing her ear. She shuddered lightly, her head resting on his shoulder.

When he finished, he delicately turned her to face him. Her chest heaved in the confinement of the corset, her eyes were hooded and she stared directly at his mouth.

"Thank you, Rhett," she said throatily, and continued to undress.

Rhett swallowed hard and moved further away, his eyes never leaving hers. _Temptress, _his mind accused her. He watched intently as her dress fell to her feet and she stepped out of it. Her pantalets were obstacles to his eyes, and he almost cursed them aloud. As she slipped into her nightclothes, she eyed her husband. He slowly undressed, letting his slacks fall, his shirt trailing almost immediately. He stood in only his shorts before her, and she gasped quietly. _Seducer, _she wanted to cry out. But he only slipped in the covers beside her.

As the gas lamps dimmed, both lay there in silence, a prison to their desires.

"Goodnight," she whispered, "have a good sleep."

He was silent for a moment, before he huskily replied, "Don't I get a kiss, Scarlett?" The question was innocent enough, but her reply was not.

As she turned over to face him, something aggressive rose within her. "Oh," she whispered wickedly, "you get more than that."

His lips crashed onto hers, and she met his kiss eagerly. He rolled so that he was atop her, balanced on his forearms. He nuzzled her neck, kissing at her collarbones before looking down on her hungrily.

"I was hoping you would say that," he said slowly, and quickly descended upon her waiting form again.

---

Rhett eyed his wife's sated and sleeping form with intrigue. Never before had she quite responded like that, with passion, fire, and dare he say it, love. She snuggled closer to him, and he cautiously wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

In the throes of their passion, she had cried it over and over again, _I love you Rhett_, she had almost screamed, _I love you, I love you, I love you, Oh God, I love you._ He had said nothing, but drawn her in for a kiss, moving intently within her. He had wanted to respond in turn, oh God; he had wanted so badly to tell her he loved her in return! But how could he? How could he relinquish his heart to her? After their past, after her love for Ashley, how could he do that?

_I want to try again_, he wanted to tell her, _but I don't want you to hurt me. I don't want to have to leave you again, but God help me, I will if it returns to the way it was. She's already tried to change, _he acknowledged, _I need to try too._

"Don't make me leave you," he whispered to her sleeping form, "just love me, Scarlett and we can be happy." He kissed her forehead gently, "I want us to be happy."

He could not say it just yet though, so he fell asleep, wishing he could tell his wife how much he loved her. But he could not say it, and she would have to wait for him, as he waited for her.

---

I'm so sorry about the five month wait between the chapters, but I hope this one is worth it! I decided to take the story in a less angst way, and I am now writing from scratch, as opposed to before, where the chapters were already written.

I love reviews, so maybe a couple would be nice…


	8. A Misunderstanding Mended

Disclaimer: All rights to Gone With the Wind belong to Margaret Mitchell, whom, unfortunately, I am not.

A/N: Thank you all for the lovely feedback that I received! Your encouragement is, as always, the motivation for my continued writings.

Stick with me and please review!

---

As tremulous as it began, a genuine peace began to form between Rhett and Scarlett. A reconciliation, each privately assumed and hoped, would not be far off, as long as events continued on as they were. Rhett eased his cynical teasing and cruel jokes, and Scarlett's defenses weakened slowly. More than once he had abruptly apologized before she could hide her hurt, his way of showing her that he was willing to try again.

Scarlett couldn't quite understand this motive. She was honestly baffled by Rhett's sudden kindness and well-mannered humor. In the beginning, she had thought him to be ill. Never before had he been so pleasant and dare she say it, nice. Not even on their honeymoon or during his proposal had he been so genteel to her. His roguish charm had not disappeared, nor was he a reformed man. It was simply different.

Naturally, Miss Eleanor was delighted. Scarlett had seen her clapping her hands, whispering a chant of "grandbabies" to herself rapturously, when she thought no one was looking. Scarlett had never seen someone who had loved babies as much as Miss Eleanor, except perhaps Melly. But Scarlett didn't dwell on Melly much anymore; she couldn't bear to think of her friend so soon after her death. Scarlett sighed, placing her forehead against the cool pane of the window that led to the veranda outside her room. It was beautiful outside, the constant rain had left Charleston verdant and lush and the sun was shining merrily. She couldn't help but feel melancholy, even so. Now that Rhett was spending more time with the children, they were eager to play with him. After all, Scarlett was the one who fussed about their clothing and made sure they were safe. As it was, Rhett was the one who didn't give a darn about what they wore or how they acted. Keeping up appearances was the mother's job, it seemed.

She was so tired; maybe she could just let her head rest? Curling up in the comfortable wicker chair, her head dropped in slumber. Peace eased the lines of her face, removing the traces of fatigue from her features. As she slumbered, dreams overtook her consciousness.

_She was walking in the most beautiful garden she'd ever seen. The lush grass was like a Turkish carpet beneath her feet, her hem never stained. The sky was a magnificent blue, almost like paler sapphire, feathery clouds dotting it in a pleasant pattern. The sun's warm rays seemed to embrace her figure, warming, never burning. The flowers around her burst into resplendent rainbows, their fragrance lilting in the air pleasantly. _

"_Mother," a small voice asked impatiently, "can we keep walking? I left my books up ahead!"_

_Startled, Scarlett looked to her right. There was Wade! And he looked so handsome! He looked like a fitting combination of Charles and her. He was so…happy. She had never seen him so truly free until this moment._

"_Mother," he asked again, this time concernedly. "Are you all right?"_

_Beaming, she cupped his cheek tenderly, brushing the fair from his forehead. _

"_Of course, dear! You may run along and fetch your things. Meet us back on the path though!"_

_Thanks flashed in his eyes and he rushed ahead, looking back to wave joyously. Ella, who had gone unnoticed until now, was tugging at her mother's sleeve._

"_May I catch up to him, Mother?"_

_Ella was so pretty, her ginger curls shining and her green eyes pleading. Scarlett couldn't bear to say no._

"_Yes, darling. Run ahead, but be careful!"_

_Scarlett watched her eldest two children run ahead on the path and sighed. She sat on the grass tiredly, wishing she could spend more time in such a pretty place. She was just on the verge of slumber, when inexplicably; she felt something crawl over to her._

_Shrieking, she sat up, brushing her skirts aside. _

_The thing was a child! Hardly more than an infant! Scarlett took a moment to admire the little baby. It was a pale little thing, with dark hair and shining dark eyes. _

"_Oh," a familiar voice chimed, relieved, "you've found her then! Ever since she started crawling, she's been a little menace!"_

_Scarlett looked up at her once sister-in-law and dearest friend._

_Hoarsely, she gasped, "Melanie?"_

"_Of course, darling. Who else would look after your little girls?"_

"_My girls?"_

"_Yes, Scarlett. Bonnie and the baby," Melanie smiled gently. "I watch over your children here, darling."_

"_Oh," Scarlett said, "the baby?" She swallowed visibly and continued. "The baby I lost?"_

"_Yes, dear-heart," Melanie smoothed out the baby's dress, picking the squirming child up. "Would you like to hold her?"_

_Scarlett nodded wordlessly, standing up with her arms outstretched. Melanie gently placed the child into Scarlett's awaiting arms._

"_She is a fussy girl, like Bonnie used to be," Melanie said cheerfully, "and she loves to crawl around and explore new things. She doesn't like to be swaddled or pushed around in a baby-carriage. She is a little independent girl, just as I suspect you were."_

_Scarlett merely nodded, her eyes locked on the child's – her daughter, she reminded herself – face. It was like a dream, holding onto this little girl, the baby she had wanted, she hoped she would never wake up._

"_Scarlett," Melanie said. "It's time to—_

"Wake up, dear."

Groggily, Scarlett rubbed the remnants of slumber from her eyes and sat up. Her nightgown needed to be pulled down, but she pulled back.

"How did I get into a nightgown? Why am I in bed?"

Miss Eleanor smiled, "My dear daughter-in-law, you've slept the day away, it's already tomorrow. Rhett came in and found you slumbering peacefully on the floor; we were at a loss as to how you got there. But that bruise that's now on your cheekbone makes me think you fell off the window seat in your sleep. So Rhett moved you to the bed, got you undressed into your night things and then let you rest."

"Oh," Scarlett said, blushing crimson. Rhett had undressed her? This could only mean that his feelings for her were returning! She knew she could win him back; no one had ever refused Scarlett O'Hara what she wanted.

"And now, dear girl, wake up and get dressed! The children will soon be up and we're going on a holiday to the Bay!" Miss Eleanor's eyes were shining with excitement and on a spontaneous urge; Scarlett squeezed the woman's hands in gratitude.

Smiling, Scarlett sat up. "Thank you for waking me, Miss Eleanor, I'd best get ready."

It was lucky that only two weeks previous, Scarlett had taken herself and the children to buy bathing costumes, as Rhett had mentioned visiting the Bay to the children several times.

Dressing in only a thin cotton frock, she pulled her hair back into a becoming knot, exiting the room in hopes of waking the children for breakfast.

Suddenly ravenous, she hoped the children would wake quickly. She was ready for a hearty breakfast.

---

"Isn't it charming, Scarlett?" Rhett said with a grin, brushing his lips to her ear.

And indeed it was. For all Scarlett could do was nod and lean into his arms. Of course the Bay was beautiful, the grey-blue water lapped gently, the sand sparkled merrily under the sun's rays, and the children shrieked with laughter. But Scarlett wasn't thinking of them, she was thinking of her dream. Seeing the baby she lost healthy, _alive_, had been disconcerting to say the least. She knew it was only her imagination, but since then, all she could see were babies! When they had left the house, a family with their children had been crossing the street, their newest addition in the pram, giggling at his mother's tickles. Then, on the train, two screaming toddlers, at lunch, an obviously pregnant woman, it seemed as if God was out to punish her today.

Wade and Ella tugged at their mother's hands, while Beau stood at Wade's other side.

"Mother, may we go play in the sand?"

"May we?"

"Please, Mother, we'll be awfully good!"

Scarlett laughed at their eagerness and stooped down to look them both in the eyes.

"Alright, darlings, you may play! But remember, you must keep on the look out for buried treasure, and don't go too near the water, for there are pirates lurking about!"

Ella was wide eyed with fright, "Pirates, Mother?"

Rhett laughed and scooped the girl into his arms, "Yes, but they won't come unless you come this high into the water without me or your mother!" He pointed to her knees.

"Alright," she said nervously, "I won't go above my knees. I shan't even get my dress wet."

"Good girl," Rhett smiled, kissing her forehead.

"Don't be afraid of the pirates," Beau said comfortingly, taking Ella's hand shyly, "I'll protect you."

The three children soon were merrily building a castle with the sand, every so often dipping their feet into the chilly waters experimentally. Scarlett watched with a smile on her face. She truly loved spending time with the children, but time with Rhett was equally welcomed and much rarer.

Rhett looked over at his wife. Her striped bathing costume, as odd as the outfit was, seemed to suit her nonetheless. Her curls had been pinned up loosely, held tightly under a bonnet of straw. Her eyes were bright and her smile was charming, if a tad wistful. He moved behind her, his arms going around her waist. It wasn't often she allowed him to be publicly affectionate and he took every opportunity he was chanced with. She leaned back into him with a sigh, holding onto his forearms gently.

"What is it, my pet?" Rhett asked curiously. "You look very far away."

Biting her lip, she turned around in his arms, so that they were facing each other.

"Beau grows to look more and more like—"

"Ashley," he said bitterly, stepping back from her. He should have known that the ghost of her first love would follow them, shadowing their possible happiness.

"Oh, Rhett, _must_ you bring him into everything? I haven't thought about him once since I was left with the custody papers for Beau! If you would stop being _jealous_, I could—"

"Jealous," he spluttered, "of a man who walks in dreams and doesn't want to take responsibility of his own son, who merely foists him off onto the woman who has adored him unrequitedly for years? What is there to be jealous of, my pet?"

Scarlett's eyes brimmed and she took a step back, hearing the calls of the children.

"Melanie," she said quietly, "he looks like his mother."

Picking up her skirts, the beautiful visage of the Charleston Bay was distorted by the tears that she refused to let fall. Pinching her cheeks and putting a smile on her face, she sat next to Ella.

"All right, what would you like me to add to the castle?"

---

"Excuse me," a clear voice startled Scarlett, almost toppling the tower of the castle she had been meticulously molding with Beau, "but my daughter would like to know if she were welcome to help build a castle with your children."

Scarlett turned around to face the voice, standing up. The speaker was a young woman, who held the hands of two little girls. The mother was very small with blonde hair pulled away from her face and clear brown eyes. Her daughter looked much the same, though her hair was much lighter. Scarlett smiled hesitantly; the woman didn't have a Charlestonian accent, so there was no danger of her knowing who Scarlett was or her previous reputations. She offered a sandy hand to the woman.

"Of course, they're welcome to play, the more the merrier. I'm Scarlett Butler; it's nice to make your acquaintance. These are my children, Wade, Beau, and Ella."

"Oh," the young woman started, "I'm sorry, how impolite of me! My name is Hannah Bryant, we've only just moved here. This is my daughter, Edith."

Scarlett smiled at the nervous woman, hoping to put her at ease. She was frightfully young to have a daughter so old. Perhaps there was a scandal there…but she was quickly brought back to the present before she could mentally elaborate on that.

"This is my husband, John Bryant," Hannah introduced helpfully. The man that stood beside Hannah was tall and broad shouldered, just as fair as his wife in coloring. He, however, looked to be a number of years older than his wife. In his arms, he carried a baby, perhaps one year old, and he looked distinctly uncomfortable doing so. "The infant is our son, John, and I beg your pardon, sir, but I do not know your name."

Scarlett immediately recognized her husband's laugh.

"Perhaps I could help," she said with a small smile, "this is _my_ husband, Rhett Butler."

Though they were still angry with one another, the Butler's put on a mask of cheerfulness in order to keep up appearances. It was their specialty, after all.

---

"The Bryant's are nice," Rhett said, hoping to be rid of the uncomfortable silence that had settled between them, "I'm looking forward to dining with them tomorrow." He was willing to implement small talk

Scarlett merely nodded, trying to unpin the tendrils of her hair, intricately woven as they were; it was proving to be a formidable task. Grunting in frustration, she slammed her hands down on the bureau. She was terribly tempted to ask Rhett if he could do it, but she was still angry with him for his earlier comments. It seemed as if Rhett understood her intentions, because he didn't speak again.

They undressed and readied themselves for bed in awkward quiet, never quite meeting each other's eyes. Each slipped into the bed, scooting the edge as far as possible, before turning the lights out.

---

He didn't quite understand why he had woken up so suddenly. If his internal clock was accurate, it couldn't be but three hours until daybreak. Confused, he meant to turn over and fall back asleep, when he was prevented, quite literally, by the form of his wife atop his chest. In spite of himself, he smirked. But the smug expression left his mouth when he felt her tears soaking his chest, her shaking shoulders nearly at his chin. Worriedly, he sat up, bringing her crying, still slumbering, form into his arms.

"Scarlett," he shook her shoulders, "wake up darling." He frowned; he'd thought that she'd stopped having nightmares long ago.

She awoke with a gasp, still crying.

"Rhett," she cried, burying her face in his chest, "Rhett."

"Hush, darling," he murmured, "it was only a nightmare, nothing to be frightened of." He rubbed her hair away from her face soothingly, thumbing away her tears.

"No," she argued, "no, not a nightmare." Hiccoughing, she continued, "It was a dream, Rhett. I dreamt about Bonnie and…and…"

"About what, honey," he questioned softly, "what did you dream about?"

"The baby we lost," she whispered, new tears falling down her face. She threw her arms around him again, crying anew. "Oh, Rhett," she cried, "say something, please!"

"Go back to sleep," he said reassuringly, "everything will be fine in the morning."

"No," she said sadly, "they'll still be gone." He couldn't argue, instead he kissed her forehead softly. A lone tear trickling down his cheek, hanging suspended on his chin, before dropping to her cheek. She looked up in surprise, her mouth widening. "Rhett," she whispered softly, "you're crying."

He bowed his head, weakened by the emotions running through him. Scarlett and Rhett had lost a lot since they first met, but nothing as heartbreaking as the loss of their two children together. The lump in his throat rose, his breathing was ragged as he fought to control himself. HE couldn't be weak for her now, she needed his comfort. He could grieve privately, he internally resolved, not now.

"It's alright to cry," she said tentatively, taking his hands between her own, "I miss them too." One of her hands cupped his cheek, smoothing his tears away. His hand came to meet her, pressing it there for a moment.

They sat there; intertwined until the sun rose and they fell back asleep, comforted by each other's understanding presence.

The next morning, both rose earlier than the rest of the household, except perhaps the servants. Scarlett was up first, quietly easing out of her husband's arms. Washing her face, she called Prissy to help her dress for the day. Choosing a cheery white dress with green designs about the bodice and skirts, she swept her hair back halfway, leaving some of the curls to fall about her shoulders becomingly.

After her embarrassing behavior the night before, she needed to look her best before her husband. He could use it against her, she thought with paranoia. She exited the room quietly, going to wake the children and get them dressed for breakfast.

It was after she had left that Rhett opened his eyes, having lain awake for sometime, hoping Scarlett would either leave without a word or wake him with a smile and kiss. Confused at his conflicting wishes and disappointment, he dressed smartly. His emotional breakdown the previous night would be taken advantage of easily, he knew. Smoothing his hair away from his face, he left the room after his wife.

---

The children, still tired after their waterfront excursion the previous day, were quiet and well-behaved at breakfast. Scarlett looked distastefully at the lush spread before her, wincing at the strong smell of bacon and sausage before taking an orange and a slice of toast, free of preservatives.

Rhett, noting her absent appetite, reasoned that it was emotional outburst from the previous night. He eagerly tucked in, minding his gentlemanly manners.

"Mother," Ella said, her mouth occupied by eggs, "could you and I play dolls today? I don't like playing pirates and that's what Wade said he wanted to play."

"Mind your manner," Scarlett reminded with an exasperated air, "but yes, we shall have a tea party as soon as you'd like."

Ella swallowed her food anxiously, patting her mouth delicately with her napkin as her mother had done, and then smiled brightly.

"Oh, thank you! May we have it on the ver-ver…"

"Veranda," Scarlett supplied with an irritated inflection, before quickly smiling at Ella again, "yes, we should ask Miss Eleanor though."

"Alright! May I go now?"

"Yes," Scarlett said with a sigh, "you are excused." Ella exited the table, kissed her mother's cheek and then ran out of the room. The boys asked to leave not long after, and soon it was only Rhett at the table with Scarlett.

"Rhett," she began uneasily, "about last night—"

"I'd like to extend my apologies about my behavior last night," he cut in, "it was ungentlemanly of me, to leave you in tears while I indulged in my own…emotions.

"Oh, Rhett," she rose eagerly, kneeling near his chair, "it's alright. It's fine."

They were silent for a long time before he stood up, and helped his wife into a standing position.

"Mrs. Butler, would you care for a stroll about the gardens?"

And they knew that in this moment, there was hope for their marriage.

---

Sitting on a bench in the middles of the grounds, Scarlett twisted her hands in her lap, anxiously peering up at her husband through lowered lashes.

"Rhett," she began, "the other day…I had a dream about Melly and Bonnie…and the baby." She swallowed, "And it made me realize some things."

He nodded encouragingly, taking her hand in his, a silent show of support.

"I know that you think I'm a bad mother, or you did…but I loved Bonnie so much. I miss her everyday…mothers aren't supposed to have their favorites, but she was mine. I'm sorry for what I said after the accident, it wasn't your fault. She would have jumped no matter what; she was so stubborn, just like my Pa was. He went the same way, you know. He said the same thing she did, but he was talking to my mother."

"Thank you," Rhett said seriously, "I still feel that guilt, that it was my fault our Bonnie is gone…"

"You shouldn't," Scarlett said softly, "and, the baby…" She paused for a moment, and then lowered her eyes once more. "I wanted her. I was so happy, Rhett! You should have seen Dr. Meade's face, he was so surprised! She would have been so welcomed. I just wanted you to know that, our child was wanted…" she broke off tentatively, "and still would be."

---

Review!


	9. A Night Negated

_Disclaimer: _

I do not own Gone With the Wind, nor do I own anything associated with it. The only thing I own is this plot and my own interpretation. So please, don't sue me!

_Author's Notes:_

Well, I know that you are all probably impatient with the never ending waits between chapters, so I'll apologize for that. However, I must insist upon the necessity of these waits. If not, I fear that the much beloved characters would end up slaughtered and butchered by my writing. So please, bear with me. It's really for the good of the story!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and have stuck with me throughout this story!

---

After their walk about the gardens, Scarlett and Rhett entered the house, immediately separating. Rhett traveled to his study, his sanctuary, and Scarlett to the nursery. Their words in the garden had opened up wounds not yet healed, and both needed to nurse their pain in private. Their tentative reconciliation was not yet strong enough to weather the excruciating hurt both still held.

While Scarlett found her solace in her children, Rhett found it in his solitude.

He had sat in silence, his head in his hands, his heart trembling with emotions. Scarlett had wanted his child after all. When she had turned him from her room, shutting the door in his face, it had been more then the loss of a warm body. He had been in love with her then, as surely as he was today. The refusal to bear his children had not hurt him as much as the loss of their friendship had. He could understand not wanting another child. Scarlett, though she had had relatively easy pregnancies, had never adapted as graciously as other women had to a new child. She was not Melanie Wilkes. Rhett knew that, he was content with Bonnie. He had been content with Ella and Wade. But when she had begun locking her door to him, it was as if she had shut herself away from him forever. At one time, he had been her closest and dearest friend. She had shared secrets with him that none, save God perhaps, had heard. That loss, he had felt that loss deep within himself. The hurt she had produced in him then, the coldness with which she had spurned him, had haunted him for a long time. He made it his own, lashing out at her with the same treatment. Now that loneliness which she had forced upon him became his comfort. Perhaps he was so used to it, that it had become welcoming. Rhett was unable to figure out where to go from their garden conversation. She had told him that she loved him a thousand times, but he was still unable to offer his heart fully. He knew how it hurt her. Their intimacy was still unusual. She gave herself completely, but he held back the slightest bit.

Sighing, he opened his pocket watch, noting the inscription. It had been a gift from Scarlett on their second Christmas as husband and wife. However tumultuous their marriage was, she had still adored him as her confidante.

_To Rhett, the most rotten scoundrel I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, your affectionate wife, Scarlett._

He had laughed uproariously at the time, kissing her passionately. He had not taken her words to heart then. Looking back, he regretted it. Perhaps it had been her tentative way to show how she felt about him. The night Melanie Wilkes had passed; she had told him that she had loved him all along, though she had never known it. Rhett damned himself for not picking up on her care for him until it was too late. His damned pride had kept him at arm's length. Every time he had showered her in his affections, he pulled away, saving himself from probable hurt. He looked across the wall at her picture. He had brought it with him, his guilty pleasure. He had wrapped it carefully the night he fled Atlanta, fled Scarlett and her children. She had been smiling secretively, like she knew something that he did not. Her eyes sparkled merrily. Though the daguerreotype was not in color, he could see the vivid hue of her eyes clearly. She was so beautiful. He could not bear to leave without some remnant of her. Many nights he had been tempted to destroy her likeness, but some twinge inside him, perhaps produced by copious amounts alcohol, had stopped him.

It was no use looking back, Rhett thought regretfully, using Scarlett's logic. He could only change their future.

Perhaps it was time to fully open his heart again, risking her scorn. Her love would be well worth the risk.

---

Scarlett kissed her daughter's hair spontaneously, looking deep within the girl's eyes. Guilt still flooded her when the girl's eyes showed surprise. Ella was still not used to her affection. Wade was even more uncomfortable with her embraces. Beau, used to such things, was oblivious to his new siblings' discomfort.

"Mother," Ella questioned hesitantly, "are you sad?"

Scarlett looked at her daughter in shock.

"Why do you ask, sweetheart?"

"Because Mother, your eyes look like they're wet. Have you been crying?"

Scarlett sat up straighter, wiping at her eyes briskly.

"Oh Ella," she smiled sadly, "you're so grown up sometimes. Why, you're practically a young lady! Where _have_ all the years gone?"

Ella smiled at her mother enthusiastically

"Well, Mother, I can't stay little forever! Soon I'll be as big as Beau!" She did not understand what about growing up made her mother sad.

Scarlett reflected on this. It seemed as if had been ages since Wade had been a small boy. She remembered him, frightened and hiding behind her skirts. She had not the time for scared children. But she had loved him in her own way. Perhaps he had longed for affection and coddling, but Scarlett had been more interested in a full belly and safety. With Ella it had been the same way. She had been scarred from the war's hardships. All she could focus on was never wanting for anything again. Ella and Wade had never wanted for anything a day in their lives. With Scarlett providing for them, they had been healthy and safe. She had sacrificed many a meal and much sleep to see them living comfortably. But that wasn't the case anymore, Scarlett had started to realize. Since she had married Rhett, she hadn't wanted for anything either. Her children would always be provided for. Why had she kept them at arm's lengths? She could have embraced her natural job as their mother years ago. Sadly, she realized that she had been uninterested at the time. Scarlett had grown up much in the past year of her life. Losing almost everything had changed her, much more than she had realized. She drew her daughter into a hug, smiling at her sons over her shoulder. _Sons_, she thought warmly,_ I hope that you don't mind Melly. If you look after mine, it's only fair I look after yours. _

---

If the Bryant's had noted anything strained between their dinner companions, they had not said anything. They were pleasant companions and conversationalists. Hannah was a charming young woman, a little insecure and naïve, but a nice girl nonetheless. Scarlett suspected her to be twenty-three or twenty-four years old, feeling quite old in comparison. Now, she did not look it, she knew. She prided herself on her appearance. But inside, she felt ancient. She had seen and done things that this young girl would never dream of. Scarlett's hands were stained with far more impurity than Hannah Bryant would ever know. Little did she know that this was the reason Hannah was so drawn to her. She knew that she was inexperienced in the world's ways; she thought that a friendship with Scarlett Butler would help her challenge that more gracefully.

John Bryant was a stoic man, a little cold from a first impression. However, as the night went on and the wine was poured, he loosened up a bit. He made conversation with Rhett about profit and business, complimenting him often. Rhett too felt old, though the man could not be but seven or eight years younger than him.

"So," Scarlett asked politely, her southern charm and manners falling over her personality like shroud, "how old are your children? They are just darling little things!"

"Thank you," Hannah flushed, "Edith is just five years old and John is only a month short of a year old. Your children are just lovely, Mrs. Butler. How old are they?"

Scarlett smiled proudly. "Wade Hampton is just ten this year, Beau is eight, and Ella Lorena is approaching seven."

Hannah smiled softly, "What beautiful names, your children have, Mrs. Butler, Mr. Butler!"

Rhett smiled, his white teeth flashing. Scarlett caught his eyes, pleading for his silence. None of her three children were fathered by him, God's nightgown, one of them was not even her own! But he kept silent on that matter.

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Bryant." He said it in a genuinely proud tone of voice.

Scarlett smiled up at him through lowered lashes and he returned the smile right after. _Perhaps a night of appearances won't be so bad_, she thought pensively, as her husband took her hand under the table, wrapping his fingers around her own and giving her hand a tender squeeze.

Across the table, Hannah Bryant sighed dreamily, wishing that she could be a recipient of the loving gaze Mr. Butler sent his wife and that she had the courage of Mrs. Butler to return it.

---

"Are the children in bed?" Scarlett whispered to her husband as he peered to the door of the nursery.

"Yes," he answered quietly, his voice low. "They're sound asleep." He shut the door quietly, turning the lamp off completely. He

"Good," she sighed in relief, "I'm so tired I could fall asleep right here! I haven't danced in so long, you near wore me out tonight, Mr. Butler." She smiled up at him as she teased him.

Rhett smiled down at his wife, taking in her drooping eyes and her tired smile.

"We'll have to go dancing more often, my pet, with a partner as light on her feet as you are, I like being the envy of every man in the building. Not all can boast that they have the first and last dance of Scarlett O'Hara!"

She leaned her head onto his upper arm tiredly, yawning widely.

"If I weren't so exhausted, Rhett Butler, I would hit you for your vanity."

"Oh, Scarlett," he laughed, "you know you love my vanity."

She mumbled something incoherent, her feet dragging as she tried to keep up with the strides of her much-taller husband. She was very surprised when he turned around abruptly and she found herself being scooping into his arms. It was a purely natural reaction, she found, to slip her arms around his neck and bury her face in the crook of his shoulder.

Rhett made his way to their room silently, trying not to think about how many times he carried their Bonnie like this, especially when she was tired. _Perhaps that is why I loved Bonnie so much, _he mused, _she was just like her mother in so many ways. _

Scarlett removed herself from his arms, prying herself downward in order to get undressed. Covering her mouth as it split in another yawn, she began to unfasten her dress. Her fingers slipped and stumbled through her buttons, but the dress fell away from her shoulders and she stepped out of it. Splashing her face with water, she turned back to her husband.

"Rhett," she began, before stopping abruptly. Her husband had been in the process of raking his eyes over her body, stopping hungrily on her face. His eyes were hooded and he stepped closer. "Would you mind?" She turned around, gesturing to her stays.

She nearly gasped aloud as his fingers seemed to _caress_ the ties open, lingering tantalizingly close to her back. His hands traveled downward and she closed her eyes, her head tipping backwards, relaxed. The corset also dropped from her body, leaving her in her shimmy. She reached for her nightgown and her wrapper before stepping out of his sight. She returned a moment later, her wrapper hanging loosely from her shoulders. He had already stripped into his nightclothes and robe.

She walked to him steadily, his arms already opened for an embrace. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, his circled her waist. She stayed there for a moment, content to simply be held in his warm arms, close to him. She put her ear to his chest, the steady lull of his heartbeat making her drowsy. He gently guided her to the bed, the covers already pulled away. She climbed into bed, and once he was beside her, snuggled up to his chest.

"Goodnight Rhett," she whispered, half-asleep, "I love you."

"Goodnight Scarlett," he whispered in return, "I love you too."

If she hadn't been so tired, Scarlett would have jumped for joy. He said it! He had said it in return! An exhausted smile stretched on her face and stayed on her face until morning came.

---

Rhett awoke the next morning with a smile on his face, Scarlett was nestled close to him and the sun shone brightly. Birds chirped gaily, he could hear the sounds of the children laughing in the nursery and smell the breakfast. He turned over, on his side, watching as his wife slept. _My wife_, he thought happily, _my wife who loves me_. He had never imagined waking up to her would feel so amazing, that hearing those words would be so incredible. He quietly slipped out of the covers, intent of spending the entire day spoiling her, catering to her every whim. He had married her with this intention in his mind, to make sure that she was the happiest woman alive. Now, he could finally fulfill this task.

He laid out a dress for her, a beautiful white dress with green print, much like the one she had worn on their first meeting, that day so long ago at Twelve Oaks. Searching eagerly for a hat to wear, he rifled through her many hatboxes, eagerly, yet quietly, emptying her valise. He grinned when he found the box he was looking for, lifting it out triumphantly. When a thick wad of paper was revealed, his curiosity got the better of him. He picked it up, unraveling the pink hair ribbon that held the bundle of what were now revealed to be letters together. He turned them over, reading the address once. In the silence of the room, the slap of the envelopes hitting the floor sounded like a thunderclap, ominous to his ears.

_How could I have been so fooled_, he lamented, _what a pretty little liar, she is!_

­---

Scarlett drifted into wakefulness, yearning at once to both wake up and go back to sleep. _I'd do well to get up and attend to the children_, she reminded herself, _so I can spend the rest of the day attending to my husband_. She grinned happily, stretching her arms with a yawn. Humming a little tune, she leaned against the headboard.

"Oh, she wept with delight when he gave her a smile, and trembled with fear at his frown!" Singing off-key, she threw the covers off of her, noting the dress and slippers at the vanity.

"Oh, how sweet of him!"

She called Pansy in to help her with her stays and was soon dressed and ready to meet her husband downstairs, where she knew he would be. As Pansy folded up her mistress's nightgown, she looked at the ground.

"Miss Scarlett, would yah like Pansy ta get rid o' these ole' papers?"

"What papers, Pansy? What are you blabbering on about?"

She looked down at felt her heart jump into her throat. Yellowed letters were scattered about the hardwood floors, the pink ribbon cast adrift among them, like wreckage of a ship from the hands of disastrous storm.

"God's nightgown," she breathed, swaying perilously on her feet, "the letters."

---

So here we have a chapter full of angst…and suspense! Reviews are lovely!


	10. A Malady Misunderstood

_Disclaimer:_

I don't own Gone With the Wind, nor do I own anything affiliated with it. I only borrow from the general splendor that is Margaret Mitchell's creation. I certainly make no monetary gain from this work of fiction. So, lawyers, you may now back off.

_Author's Notes:_

Hello again! This certainly makes for a nice change of the monthly update, doesn't it? The reason for the quick update is that I'm going to wrap this story up in a few chapters. There will be a more dramatic jump in time towards the later chapters, instead of the day to day jumps that the previous chapters have been like.

Last chapter I forget to mention that I did not own the little tune that Scarlett sings, I borrowed that from the movie.

So lastly, I beg of you to review. I know you're reading, but I'd like some reviews as consolation for my hard work and sore fingers. (Typing takes a toll, you know!)

Thanks and enjoy!

---

Scarlett stared down at the letters, horrified. Nausea tossed her in her stomach, her eyes watered with unshed tears, the terror the filled her was enormous. She barely made it to the bathroom before retching piteously.

"Miss Scarlett, are you alright?" Pansy bent over her mistress in concern.

"Get out," Scarlett's voice was strangled, cut with emotion, "get out before I slap you!"

Scarlett waited only long enough for the frightened girl's footsteps to fade and the door to shut before bursting into tears. Heaving sobs were cluttered in her throat as tears dotted and splotched the graceful handwriting of Ashley Wilkes.

"Damn you, Ashley," she choked, "damn you!"

She didn't know how long she had cried, but when her tears were spent and her sorrow stayed, she rose gracefully. Gathering the letters back in her hands, she methodically tied the ribbon back around them. In her head, she could see the letters; recall their words as if they were in front of her eyes.

_My darling son,_

_I miss you terribly. I only wish that you could travel with me, however selfish that wish is. You are still young, experiencing the throes and delights of childhood; it would be cruel to remove you from the loving house of which you reside in._

_You would love Paris, Beau. There are spectacular sights there, beautiful artwork to be gazed upon, wonderful operas to be heard, walks in the bois to be taken, people to meet. I wish you were here, my son. _

_Mind your aunt, Beau. Scarlett will take wonderful care of you, like you were her own son. She brought you into this world, did you know? She has done much for us and our family; please behave yourself as you would for your mother or me. _

_Be a good boy, I will return to you._

_All the love in the world,_

_Your Father_

"Oh, Rhett," she whispered sadly, "why couldn't you have trusted me?"

---

At the dinner table that night, Eleanor Butler took in the mood of her daughter-in-law. She sat stiffly, her posture proper but unyielding. Her voice was quiet, patient, ladylike, but tinged with repressed sorrow. She kept a bright smile on her face for show, but her eyes were tangibly sad. She looked to the empty chair often, as if hoping Rhett would be there. Eleanor knew that this was more than a wife missing her husband, as Scarlett had claimed, waving off her concerns.

"Terrence," Eleanor called, waiting for the man to enter the room to continue her request, "would you mind terribly taking the children for some dessert at the confectionary? I'm sure they shall be delighted to have some customers at this time of night. You may take some money from my purse."

Beau and Ella were all smiles and laughter as they left, but Wade looked back at his mother with hesitation. He darted back to the table then leaning up, kissed her cheek softly.

"Thank you darling," Scarlett said her voice full of emotion, "now run along," she smoothed his hair from his face tenderly, "and bring something back for Miss Eleanor, since she was so kind as to treat you."

He nodded and then ran to catch up with the other children and Terrence.

"Now," Eleanor broke the silence, "would you mind telling me why you're _really_ so distraught?" She held up a hand to stall Scarlett's protests. "And don't say it's because you miss Rhett, he's only been gone for a few hours."

Scarlett was silent a moment, her pride eventually failing her.

"We had an argument and he left before I could apologize," she half-lied, "and I hate that I can't control my own emotions. One moment I'm as happy as a clam, the next, I feel like crying my eyes out." She slumped in frustration, "Miss Eleanor, what's the matter with me?"

"Nothing, my dear," Eleanor crooned comfortingly, "just head up to bed, all you need is some rest. I'll see to the children for tonight and the morning, you just catch up on your beauty sleep!"

Scarlett rose from the table, excusing herself gratefully.

"Oh, and Scarlett?"

"Yes?"

"Don't worry your pretty head about my son, if he's been ungentlemanly, he'll come to reason soon enough and crawl back with an apology."

Scarlett almost laughed at the absurdity of her mother-in-law's statement before catching herself. Smiling in amusement, she left the room, her mind temporarily diverted from her husband's departure.

---

Downstairs, Eleanor glanced again at the letter her son had left her. It _was _curious that he had addressed it to her, not to Scarlett. But perhaps he was still on edge from their argument, she reasoned, I shan't interfere in their marriage.

_Mother,_

_I've been called away on some very urgent, yet promising, business up North. I cannot say how long I shall be gone, only that it will likely end up being a couple of months. _

_I'm sorry for such short notice; please give my apologies to the children. I ask that you let my family stay for as long as they wish, I know they would feel comfortable here. Atlanta holds many memories for Scarlett that she is not yet ready to face. Do look after her; she is not as strong as she would like the world to believe. _

_All my love,_

_Rhett_

She poured herself a glass of water, absentmindedly making down the children's beds and laying out their night things. It was such a joy having children in her home once again! Perhaps when Scarlett and the children left, she would visit her daughter, she didn't think she could bear an empty house after the delight of grandchildren. Speaking of grandchildren, Eleanor smiled. She wondered when she could expect the news of Scarlett becoming pregnant. She knew that she and Rhett had been intimate; heaven's they weren't exactly discrete or quiet! She hoped that Scarlett would have a baby soon; she couldn't wait for another grandson or granddaughter!

---

"Scarlett," Eleanor cried, alarmed. Her daughter-in-law had been mounting the stairs with her children following close behind, before she swayed perilously on her feet. It was only Wade's hand around his mother's wrist that allowed her to keep her balance.

Eleanor picked up her skirts in haste, helping her son's wife settle in a chair. Ever since her son had left Charleston nearly three weeks ago, Scarlett's health had been gradually declining. She rarely ate, citing lack of appetite and nausea as her excuses, avoiding reading and needlepoint with complaints of headaches and dizziness.

"I'm fine," Scarlett waved off the concerns of Eleanor, "really, I just lost my balance for a moment." She smiled charmingly, but Eleanor Butler, mother of three rambunctious and deceitful children, could easily detect her lie.

She snorted in reply.

"If you're as fine as you say you are, then I'm a proud Yankee!" She looked down at her daughter-in-law sternly. "Now I want you to see the doctor tomorrow morning—"

"Fiddle-dee-dee, Miss Eleanor, I'm as healthy as a horse!" Scarlett knew that she was lying through her teeth and she knew that Miss Eleanor could see that. She still felt dizzy, as though the world was spinning too fast and her headache pounded at the back of head. Her stomach was churning weakly and she was fighting back yawns.

Eleanor waved a finger in front of Scarlett's face. She had caught her now.

"None of that, Scarlett. I'm sending for the doctor whether you agree to it or not. You're not well and that's that."

---

"Well, Mrs. Butler, where is the patient?"

The doctor that Eleanor had called was an old friend of her husbands. He had birthed Eleanor's own children and assisted in the delivery of two of her grandchildren.

"She's upstairs sulking; she refuses to believe that anything is wrong. She's in the guest room on the left; she is expecting you, however grudgingly uncooperative she seems about the matter."

Doctor Edward Miller walked up the stairs familiarly, remembering the panic which his old friend, the late Mr. Butler, had ushered him in. He had been an anxious man, usually calm, when it came time for childbirth. He shook off the memories and entered the guest room after knocking and receiving a clipped "enter".

---

Scarlett looked up at the doctor with arched eyebrows and flared nostrils. She had been ordered into a nightgown by her mother-in-law and tucked into bed to wait for Doctor Miller. Her arms crossed over her chest stubbornly as she watched the older man close the door behind him. She observed him for a moment. He looked like a kindly old man with steel colored hair, vaguely white at the temples and small spectacles on his nose.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Butler," the Doctor greeted her pleasantly; "My name is Edward Miller. What seems to be your illness?"

"There's nothing wrong with me, Doctor Miller," Scarlett dimpled, "really, my mother-in-law just worries too much."

He shook his head at her; he was much too old to fall for a smile and batted eyelashes.

"I've heard that you have not been eating much and sleeping less than usual, is that true, Mrs. Butler?"

"Well," Scarlett began uneasily, "my husband has left town recently and the children have been acting up…"

"So it is true," he set his black leather traveling bag at the foot of her bed. "Have you any other symptoms or complaints? You might as well tell me. You know that Eleanor won't be happy unless I leave having diagnosed you with something."

Scarlett sighed and was quiet for a moment before giving in.

"I feel nauseous at mealtimes and I have headaches often. I can barely get up in the morning I'm so tired."

"Well," the doctor gave her a small smile, patting her hand comfortingly, "that's something I can work with."

Scarlett felt herself relax at the manner of the man who was attending to her. He seemed more like a favorite uncle or grandfather than her physician. Doctor Miller smiled as he continued to ask his patient questions, to him it seemed as if the poor woman was simply overwrought and it was manifesting in poor health. But just to be sure, he thought, I'd better test a few things.

---

Rhett listened to the sounds of birds chirping outside his window with disgust. It seemed wrong that nature was so happy when he was so angry. There should have been rain, he brooded. London had never let him down as Atlanta had done. London always rained when his mood was black. Contrary to the letter he had hastily penned weeks ago, he had not gone North for business at all. He had returned to Atlanta and his monstrosity of a home. He knew Scarlett would not return to the Peachtree house if she could help it, not when his mother was so welcoming. He sipped at a glass of wine moodily. _Scarlett_, his mind hissed, _why do I always think of her?_

"Because despite it all," he laughed humorlessly, responding to his own question, "you are madly in love with her."

He put his head in his hands, trying desperately not to think of his wife. Unbidden, the image of the bundle of letters rose to his mind. Scowling, he finished his wine and poured another glass. He should have known he could never chase the thought of her precious Ashley from her heart.

"Damnit Scarlett," he muttered to an empty room, "were you born to destroy those who love you?"

---

Over dinner, Eleanor couldn't help but notice the change in Scarlett's manner. She tucked into her food with gusto and conversed attentively with her children. She smiled brightly and laughed merrily at their jokes and questions. When she dismissed them for bed, she kissed all three of them goodnight and tucked them in. She returned to the table with a smile on her face, sipping absentmindedly at her water. Eleanor narrowed her eyes. Since the doctor had left, Scarlett had been in much better spirits. What could have affected her so much? Eleanor looked at her daughter-in-law more closely. Her eyes lingered over the untouched glass of wine.

"Scarlett, what did Doctor Miller say to you this afternoon? You seem to be so happy! What could his diagnosis have been to make you smile so?"

"Really Miss Eleanor," Scarlett smiled secretively, "I have no idea what you are talking about. I have a clean bill of health, I'm simply glad I'm not ill."

"If you say so, Scarlett," her mother-in-law looked unconvinced. "But perhaps you would like to tell me why you have neglected your wine tonight?" Scarlett looked at her mother-in-law, startled that Eleanor had noticed. She sighed.

"I'd like for my husband to be the first to know," she said, her brows rising meaningfully.

Eleanor Butler shrieked in delight and embraced her daughter-in-law tightly. Scarlett was astonished; Eleanor had always been so composed and proper! But she hesitantly returned the gesture of affection, leaning into her mother-in-law gratefully.

"Don't worry, dear, I won't say a word," Eleanor assured her, easing concerns she had been meaning to vocalize.

---

Scarlett paced her room, her expensive heels treading an anxious path in the lush carpets.

"Oh, it's no good," she cried despondently, throwing herself onto her bed, tears leaking rebelliously from tightly shut eyes.

Half-finished letters littered the floor of her room, ink stains at her fingertips, frustrated efforts that had been fruitless. She had battled with herself for sleepless nights. Should she tell Rhett, wait for him to come back and surprise him with a burgeoning belly or a wailing infant? Should she run? Should she seek him out? She had known that she had to tell him the moment she knew that she carried his child. She had not told him last time and the revelation had led to her tumble down the stairs and loss of her baby. She would not let that happen again, she vowed. But she loved Rhett and she didn't want him to come back just for their child. She wanted him to love her and stay with her because of that love. Scarlett O'Hara took no one's charity and despised pity. When she had first come to Tara after the Yankees had defiled it, she could have contacted her father's brothers and family. But she didn't, and she could say with pride that she had made it out of the war by herself. Scarlett O'Hara would be no one's charity case, not even Rhett Butler's.

So she resolved to seek him out, but doubt crippled her confidence and she couldn't even write out what she wanted to say to her husband. Nausea churned unpleasantly in her stomach and she took deep breaths to calm herself. She was making herself sick over this! She mustn't get worked up or overly emotional, Doctor Miller said it wouldn't be good for the baby. Overjoyed at the news of her pregnancy, Doctor Miller did not miss the look of astonishment on her face. He inquired as it to it and she told him.

"_Congratulations, Mrs. Butler," Doctor Miller smiled, "you're expecting a child. Perhaps two months along already, you can expect his arrival early next year, perhaps mid-January."_

_Scarlett was silent for a moment before an incredulous smile spread about her face. _

"_A baby, really? Are you quite sure it's not just a flu?" Scarlett thought back to her other pregnancies. She had been horribly ill during the first three months, but that had not happened with this baby, it had been worse. Before, she could keep nothing down. She blushed when she realized that she had missed two of monthly fluxes. _Of course_, she thought, _I should have known!

"_Well, yes, Mrs. Butler. But if I may," he hesitated, "you seem far more shocked than the reaction girlish modesty would provoke."_

_She sighed, her fingers tracing patterns in her duvet._

"_I have birthed three children, Doctor Miller," she said flatly, "all perfectly healthy, but my fourth pregnancy ended in miscarriage. I fell down a set of stairs and bruised my ribs, as well as losing my baby. The doctor told me in confidence that I would most likely never have another child. My menses have been sporadic at best since then; I never even thought it possible. So you understand my surprise?"_

_The Doctor nodded, gathering his bag together. _

"_I am glad you told me of this. As you have become pregnant, it seems he was wrong. However, to be cautious, do not strain yourself; avoid stress and too much emotional devastation. I do not think I have to tell you to keep away from wine and spirits as well as tobacco. Avoid intercourse and raw meats."_

"_Thank you, Doctor Miller, I will."_

"I can't think about this today," she agonized, "but I must! I have to find Rhett and convince him to hear me out, then he'll take me back, I know he will!"

And if he wouldn't, Scarlett didn't dare think what she might do to keep her child a secret.

---

Sorry for the wait! This was a tricky one. Yes, Scarlett finally has a bun in the oven. Get excited.

Oh, and review!


	11. A Woman Wandering, Pt 1

_Disclaimer – I own nothing from Gone With the Wind, that honor and privilege is that of Margaret Mitchell's. So please, don't call any lawyers. _

_---_

_Author's Notices – My dear readers, I _am _dreadfully sorry for the lack of updates in weeks, months, so on and so forth. I am not going to bore you with all of the details, suffice to say that the real world interceded and proceeded to gag and chain my muse indefinitely. However, she shows traces of breaking free, and therefore, this chapter was born._

_Please do feel free to shout, using the best grammar and diction as possible, in your reviews, that I'm sure you'll all fall over yourselves to leave. _

_Happy New Year and may 2007 be the best year possible for you and your families. _

_---_

"Mother, do we _have _to go? I really wanted to go to the beach again with Uncle Rhett!" Ella's little voice stabbed at her mother's heart, though the little girl did not know it.

It had been one week since Doctor Miller had told her the good news, that she was to have another baby. Though Scarlett couldn't have been happier, she had never felt so despondent. It was very contradicting she knew, but pregnancy had never been a wonderful time for her. With Wade it had been frightening, she had only been seventeen and her body had barely finished the transition from girl to woman, before being forced to make the transition from woman to mother. She had only a few years until she once again experienced motherhood with Ella, then in a couple of years more, Bonnie. After that, well, it was best not to linger on that baby, the one she had wanted with all of her heart. Ella's innocent question and her mention of her Uncle Rhett almost caused Scarlett to burst into tears. She didn't want to leave Miss Eleanor either, it was comforting to have a mother-like figure around, to not have to worry about taking charge for once in her life. After Rhett had left, Eleanor had commanded the household and let Scarlett simply be. But yes, they had to leave Miss Eleanor now. Because Scarlett couldn't stand watching traces of Rhett disappear from the house as Miss Eleanor sent them to his forwarding address, one she did not share with Scarlett, and trying desperately not to be sick in the mornings when she realized that he wouldn't be waking her with a kiss, a smile, a taunt.

Wade must have realized something was wrong, because he had taken Ella's arm and lead her to the nursery, telling her about all the new toys they must have in Atlanta. Ella's cheery responses lessened the lump in her throat. Her eyes dried and the tears unshed remained that way, lingering but unnoticed. A little hand tugged on her skirts and she smiled down at her nephew and adopted son.

Beau smiled up at his Auntie Scarlett. She was always so nice to him and answered all his questions. Auntie India was mean, she always told him to mind his manners and that children weren't supposed to talk all the time and be such bothers.

"Auntie Scarlett, is my daddy going to be home?"

Scarlett's smile froze and lost a little of its surety. She thought about what to say. Ashley's last letter had mentioned that he was taking the next voyage home, and that he was bringing his new wife. A proper Englishwoman named Lydia Wilkes nee Grey. The Grey's were distant cousins of the Wilkes family and when there were no Hamilton's to marry, the Wilkes often turned to the Grey family. Ashley's letter had been very surprising; he had lost the tonelessness of letters past.

_Scarlett darling,_

_I have news for you and for Beau. I have taken a wife here. Her name is Lydia; she is of the respectable Grey family in London. We met once as children, and she was promised to Martin Collins, but he died of consumption last year. She has one child, a boy named Henry who is six years younger than Beau. He is a gracious child, much like your Wade Hampton was. His second birthday was only last week. _

_She needs a husband and I need a wife, our children need two loving parents. She is a kind, soft-spoken woman with a grace about her that is similar to Melanie's. _

_You will become fast friends, I am sure. Please understand Scarlett, that I am in no way replacing Melanie with Lydia, I would never dream of it, neither would she. Lydia and Melanie were great friends in their younger years. She will be a good mother to Beau and I will hope to become a better father for Beau and for little Henry. She has spoken of more children, Scarlett. What am I to tell her? How can I tell her no? Telling Melly no only killed her emotionally. Melly wanted a little girl so much, you know. She told me how jealous she was of you for Ella Lorena and Bonnie. Melanie loved children so much, and I can tell that Lydie shares that same love. But can I really grant that wish, when it was that wish that killed Melanie? I wish I could speak more freely with you, Scarlett. I know this is crossing boundaries of propriety, but you are the dearest friend to me and I value your advice so very much._

_I do not wish you for you to break news such as this to Beau. Please tell him only that I aim to be home and with him on the thirtieth of this month and that I missed him very much. I will not have you shoulder another burden in regards to my son. Legally, you will not be his mother now that I have remarried, but Scarlett, you will always fulfill that role in a way that Lydia will be unable to. You are more like Melanie, just for having lived in the same house, raised your children together, grown up in the glorious South as a belle. You share the same spirit as Beau's mother, and I can think of no one else to step into that role more capable than you. _

_I might add, Scarlett, considering the promise I am sure Melly asked of you, that Lydia brings with her, her late husband's wealth. I do believe that my new family, as well as my old, shall never want again. It is a rather indelicate thing to speak of, but I know how you worry. _

_Rest assured that all will be well in time,_

_Your faithful friend,  
Ashley Wilkes_

"Yes, Beau," Scarlett smiled more warmly, "your daddy will be home very soon and he has a few new surprises for you. That is one of the reasons that we need to go home! Now why don't you run along and go tell Ella and Wade your good news?"

Beau grinned, an adorable sight with his two missing teeth, and hugged her around the waist before darting off to the nursery.

"Thanks, Auntie," he called over his shoulder, flashing her another smile.

Scarlett sagged against the wall as soon as he rounded the corner. White stars blinked across her eyes as she pressed her fingers to her eyelids and rubbed softly.

"You're welcome," she whispered into the silence of the hallways, alone once more.

---

"Do you think they will like me?" A hesitant voice broke the silence. The speaker was a pretty young woman of about seven-and-twenty with fair blonde hair and bright hazel eyes. Her smooth curls were pinned neatly under a simple hat and she cradled a sleeping toddler in her arms.

Ashley Wilkes smiled reassuringly at his new bride. "Of course they will, Lydie. Don't be silly."

Lydia bit her lip, but nodded as if convinced. It wouldn't do to worry Ashley too much. He had enough on his mind, his reunion with his son, introducing his family and friends to his new wife, and trying to become accustomed to her himself. Their marriage had been relatively quick, though there was no scandal involved. Lydia had been anxious to find a father for her little son, and a man to provide for her, since she could not work and the money was left in trust of her son until she married or he became of age. Ashley had swept into town, mourning his wife, and she became a kindred soul to him. It was he who proposed the idea, and she had gratefully accepted. Neither was in love with the other, though they understood each other perfectly. Lydia looked at her new husband and smiled. Perhaps they could grow to love each other. Not the passionate way they had loved those who came before, but in a different way. She was not looking for romance and youthful fantasies. Martin had been that for her, and no matter what happened between Ashley and her, Martin would be her true love, just as Melanie had been Ashley's. Henry fussed a little bit and she walked about the room, shushing him with comforting words.

She looked up at one point and saw Ashley watching her with a gentle smile in his eyes.

"I never saw Beau when he was that small. I was in the War and Melly had him for his first three years."

"Tell me about Beau," Lydia implored eager for details about her new step-son. "What is he like?"

"He's a wonderful boy," Ashley sighed, "he's kind and patient, but he's rambunctious and imaginative all at the same time. He loves to hear stories, especially fairy tales. He's her son. I couldn't ask for a better little boy."

Lydia smiled, though a small part of her was worried that Henry would never compare to his new brother.

"Would you..." Lydia hesitantly began, "no, never mind."

"No, please continue," Ashley urged her on, "you can ask me anything."

"Would you like to have more children?" Lydia rushed the question and closed her eyes tightly. She had always wanted a baby girl. Henry was not a disappointment in anyway. She loved her little boy with all her heart, but it had always been a dream to have a little girl to dress up and to have tea parties with.

Ashley was still for a moment. "Lydie, look at me." She peeked out from under her eyelashes demurely, waiting for rejection. Martin had only wanted boys and he had been content with only Henry.

"Did you have any trouble," he flushed pink, "when Henry was born?"

She shook her head, "No, it was relatively simple." She sighed in resignation, at least gained another child through Beau. Perhaps, she should be content with Henry. She was blessed to have him, even. She had been married for a long time before Henry had been born. Martin had confessed relieved one night after she had announced she was expecting that he was worried that one of them was sterile.

" Lydia," Ashley began hesitantly, "I don't want you to be hurt and I don't want you to die...but I want you to be happy. So, whatever happens and whatever children may be born, rest assured that they will be very welcome in my home and will always have a place in my heart, no matter the circumstance, just like the ones that Beau and Henry have..."

She smiled at him, a true smile that made her face look lovely in the beginning of dawn. Hearing that Ashley loved her son, a boy who was not his own, was so comforting for her to hear. It lifted a weight off of her shoulders that she had not known existed. She placed Henry in his little cot and walked to Ashley's side. Hesitantly, she placed a gloved hand on his arm and squeezed reassuringly. He placed a trembling hand on top of her own and turned towards her, gray eyes troubled.

" Lydia…" His lips formed words that made no sound, no effort to escape into air and be heard.

She smiled sadly at him, suddenly understanding everything that he could not say in words, "I know," she whispered comfortingly. "I do."

He drew her into his arms, and he wept. Through dry eyes, Lydia watched the sunrise and dawn a new beginning.

---

Wade Hampton Hamilton was a very bright boy, the brightest of Scarlett's children by far. It was not as if Ella was stupid or Bonnie had been dumb, or even that Beau was not very bright, but that Wade was simply smarter. He could connect things and see the forest from the trees, as it were. And Wade knew that something was wrong. Whenever Uncle Rhett went on trips without kissing Mother goodbye, something was wrong.

It was almost eerie to see the similarities between the last time Uncle Rhett had left, when Bonnie had gone with him, and this time. Mother had been quiet and sad and sick and then she had found out she was having a baby. It seemed like all it took was Uncle Rhett's trips to make his Mother give him a reason to stay, just a few weeks to late. His mother had drawn him aside from the other children and told him he was going to be a big brother just yesterday morning. She had looked so relieved to tell someone else her secret. She thought it was a good idea that he knew, _just in case_, she had whispered under her breath, thinking he had not heard. But this time, Wade was determined that this baby would be born. He wouldn't let his mother be sad or upset and he would take care of her. It would be nice to have a baby around the house. Babies always made people happy, that's what Aunt Melly had always said. She had wanted a new baby so much, and Wade had heard his mother talking about Auntie Melly to Uncle Ashley about the way she had died. She had lost a baby and it made her really weak and she had died. Uncle Ashley had cried and told Mother that it was all his fault and Wade had quickly gone back to the nursery, not wanting to hear anymore. Wade knew that babies could be dangerous too, so he was determined to protect his mother. It was his job, as man of the house. His mother had drawn him aside from the other children and told him he was going to be a big brother. She thought it was a good idea that he knew, _just in case_, she had whispered under her breath.

Wade Hampton Hamilton was a very bright boy, after all.

---

Scarlett watched in satisfaction as the last valise was packed and shut, carried downstairs and loaded into a waiting carriage. Yes, Scarlett was taking a carriage, however frowned upon they were in Charleston. Miss Eleanor had insisted, despite Scarlett's protests.

"_Miss Eleanor, it simply isn't done! Rhett told me so; he said that I would like a carpet-bagger or a Yankee if I took one!"_

_Miss Eleanor frowned dismissively, "Oh, nonsense. If you weren't in such a delicate state, I might agree or have Sally Brewster drive you, but I'm not taking a chance with my grandbaby in there, nor with you and the children. It's dreadfully warm and you'll swoon if you try to walk that length. No, you must have a proper carriage."_

"_But-"_

"_No buts, dear," Eleanor Butler frowned sternly, "surely, you don't think people will care that much, do you?"_

"_I don't want to embarrass you," Scarlett admitted quietly. "Rhett told me all about the customs of this town and you've been so good to me and to my children. I just...I didn't want to make you regret it, or think badly of me._

_Eleanor softened and embraced her son's wife lovingly. "That's very kind of you, dear, but don't you fret. I'll ride with you to the station; no one would say a thing."_

_Scarlett simply relaxed into Eleanor's arms before reluctantly pulling away and agreeing. She excused herself and went to finish overseeing the packing. She would miss Rhett's mother a lot._

_"And Scarlett, dear," Miss Eleanor called when she was nearly out the door, "I could never think badly of you."_

She stopped dead in her tracks, concentrating for a moment, placing one hand on the swell under her neatly pressed frock. She waited a few more seconds before feeling the same flutter as before. An incredulous smile spread on her face. Surely, she could not already be quickening? Adding up the numbers and remembering the doctor's words, her eyes widened. She couldn't already be four months gone; it seemed like only yesterday had she received Doctor Miller's good news. Rhett would be so excited; she remembered how startled he had been one night, feeling the flutters beneath her nightgown. She had pretended to be unfazed at his wonderment.

_Scarlett sighed, wishing she could toss and turn, but prevented by Rhett's arm across her growing stomach. She frowned. Perhaps if she was smaller and not pregnant, she could have slipped out from under his arm to move. But now she was as big as Mammy and couldn't do anything but be miserable._

_Sighing again, she felt something poke her. Annoyed, she looked over at Rhett, but he was completely still. Feeling it again, she gasped, loud enough to wake up Rhett beside her._

"_What is it, Scarlett?" He grumbled. He moved to sit up, but she grabbed his arm and pushed his hand onto her stomach. "What are you--?"_

"_Hush," she cried, "just wait." The flutters came again, stronger, as if the baby knew that someone else wanted to feel as well._

_Rhett's face slowly creased into a grin, his dark eyes dancing. "Was that?"_

_A small smile appearing in response to his wide grin, she nodded._

"_Do it again," he demanded, eager and giddy._

"_God's nightgown, Rhett, I can't make it do that. Don't you know _anything_ about babies?"_

_But her tone was not as cross as she had desired and the smile lingered in her eyes, she made no move to remove his hand and pretended to fall asleep as he eagerly waited for the baby to move again. _

She leant against the wall a moment longer, closing her eyes as she thought about what she would say to her husband about this baby, a baby that they both wanted. Rhett would always welcome a baby, she knew that much. But Scarlett also knew that she, herself, was selfish enough that she didn't want him around if it was only for the children. After all this time, she just wanted to be happy.

And being happy for Scarlett meant being with Rhett.

---

Rhett heard the servants moving about noisily in the corridors from the study and put down his paper, wanting to know what was going on. As he opened the door and peered down the hallway, he saw trunks being loaded into the front hall. He looked at the sole trunk on its way up the stairs. The embossed letters on it made him groan.

Scarlett was on her way home, and no matter how fast he was at the train station, there was no way to delay this meeting. Looking back at the papers on the desk, he shuddered. He had never wanted it to come to this, but Scarlett had used up her last chance.

He left the study, studiously ignoring the trunks and valises being brought into the house, it was time to pay an old acquaintance a visit. He could use with a drink or two, and some advice from one of his dearest friends.

---

"Mah lamb sure has come home tah her ole' Mammy," Mammy stood in front of the stairs, looking unchanged and timeless. Her brown eyes were crinkled in happiness and a wide grin split her face pleasantly.

Scarlett dropped her handbag, ignoring the stares that would come, and ran to Mammy, throwing her arms around the older woman. "I've missed you so, Mammy," Scarlett whispered thickly, her eyes overflowing.

"Pansy, Prissy, yah take the child'en to the nurs'ry and put 'dem into bed for a rest, yah hear?"

Mammy didn't make another sound until the foyer had cleared itself of the whispers of the staff and the children. Finally, Scarlett stepped away from Mammy, wiping her eyes embarrassed.

"Now, I've gone and made a scene."

"Katie Scarlett, what have yah been up to in Charles'tan?"

"Oh, Mammy," Scarlett cried, "I've so much to tell you, I don't even know where to start."

"You might start with why you've come back to Atlanta," a clipped voice interrupted. Scarlett closed her eyes and winced, not wanting to face Rhett just yet. Slowly, she turned around.

"Hello, Rhett," she greeted her husband coolly.

"Scarlett," he bowed low at the waist, and Scarlett could feel the taunt in the haughty curve of his shoulders, the way he humbly placed the back of his neck in view, bending so low that he looked as if he would pitch forward. She felt her face grow hot, and before he straightened, shot a pleading glance to Mammy.

"Miss Scarlett, Pansy is gwan ta need ma help with the child'en's things, Ah'll just be in da nurs'ry if yah need me."

Rhett stood up straight, his dark eyes glinting with some foreign emotion that made Scarlett cross her arms in front of herself, protectively, striving not to place a hand over her curving belly and give it all away.

"If you would join me in my study, Mrs. Butler, I'd be much obliged."

She swept past him, a wry smile on her face, "I'd be delighted, Rhett."

_I have one last card to play_, both thought to themselves, _so you'll just have to swallow your pride and hear me out. _

---

Part One of A Wife Wandering (Chapter Eleven) is complete. Expect the next installment (Part Two of Chapter Eleven, which will be labeled as Chapter Twelve) before the week is up!

Review, please!


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